When the Bough Breaks
by Magali1
Summary: *Updated 1/2* Christmas-fic set in future; Lyla has kept a secret from Tim which forces itself into the open one Christmas, forcing both of them to come to terms with the decisions they've made. Angst/Family. Lyla, Tim, Jason, and other POVs, including an original character, Buddy Jr., Buddy, Tami, Tyra, Julie, and Becky.
1. The Christmas Card

_**A/N: **_Hello all, I'm back. Life has been really hectic so that's why there haven't been any new stories from me of late and the last couple took forever between updates. I can't promise that won't happen with this fic, but I will say I've been working on it a bit more (it's been in draft for forever) and it returns to my 'bread and butter', so to speak, of Tim, and Lyla, and angst. But like usual, other characters, some I haven't really focused on, pop into this fic. To include Buddy Jr., Hastings, Tinker, and some other of the season 4-5 crew. This also is a bit of a Christmas fic. Anyways, enjoy :)

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><p><em><strong>1. The Christmas Card<strong>_

I hate holidays, the little girl thought, sitting in her chair at her desk, glancing sideways to the right at Emily Moore's card she was coloring for her father with a drawing of a basketball and basketball hoop on it. She glanced to the left, where Mark Waters was coloring in a Santa on his card.

And she looked down at her white construction paper, folded in half, and the writing in colored pencil on the top. '_Merry Christmas Mommy_!'

The teacher told her that her mother would love it and not to worry about the other assignment, which was making a card for their fathers. They were making individual cards for everyone in their family. Mom, Dad, brother, sister... But the teacher told her that her mother was like a mother and a father so it didn't matter, she could just make one card. I still don't like it, she thought, reaching for another colored pencil to draw the snowman she planned on putting in the lower corner of the card. She ignored stupid Mark beside her, who was teasing her because she once again got a change in their assignment, whenever they did something for their families. It doesn't matter, she thought, hoping the bell rang quickly. It was almost the last day of school. She only had a few more to go before she was done and could go with Mommy to work some days of the week.

When she couldn't go with Mommy, she got to stay with her uncle, who was okay, she guessed. He let her play video games all day long and tried to teach her about football. It was too confusing for her to know. She didn't really like football much. She wanted to play hockey one day, she liked to ice skate and it was a lot of fun. The kids in Chicago played hockey. Not really football. Or at least, the girls couldn't play it, but they could play hockey. So she played hockey.

When Mommy asked her why she wanted to play hockey, when she asked to join the local league, she replied "I just like to hit people." It was the first thing that popped in her mind. Maybe it wasn't nice, but…sometimes she just wanted to punch something. It felt good when she got angry and she could check someone into the boards. Mommy hadn't liked that, she'd flipped out and told her to be a good girl and a nice girl, which she was most of the time, but it didn't seem to matter. It was just sometimes she got angry. Like right now, with Mark making fun of her. "Stop it," she mumbled, keeping her head lowered, coloring in the heart. Just please stop it. Leave me alone; I leave you alone all the time.

Mark ignored her and continued to tease her, laughing a little. He found it so funny that she didn't have a dad. "What do you do, call your Mom like…Mom-Dad or something? Because you know, you have to have a dad, that's the rules. My dad says you have to have a dad and that your mom isn't married which is bad!"

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! She'd heard it from Mark and Mark's dad a couple of times. Even if she hadn't told anyone. She turned, her hand in a fist, glowering at him. "Stop it," she warned. Stop it or I will hit you, she vowed.

The teacher looked over at them. Mrs. Evans was nice, but sometimes she didn't notice things all the time. Her voice was soft and warning, calling out to them. "Hey guys, knock it off, the bell is about to ring." Maybe I can get through the next few minutes, the little girl thought, closing her eyes briefly. She really, really tried to ignore the mean things Mark said. He was the only one in the class that always made fun of her. Which was stupid, because he didn't make fun of Jessie Potts and she had two mommies and no daddy. But for some reason, her one mommy and no daddy was enough to make fun of her. At least to dumb Mark. And dumb Mark's dad.

The bell rang, just when she was about to snap. Good. Now I don't have to get in trouble. She shoved her things into her desk, jumping up and rushing to the back of the room to her cubby, gathering her things. She ignored Mark yelling about where she was going in such a rush, and hurried from the classroom and down the hall to the door where the kids whose parents picked them up were waiting. It seemed like there were a lot of people waiting on parents today, she thought, pushing through kids to reach the front of the line. Where are you, she wondered, trying to stand on her toes to see over people to look for her mother.

"Eve!"

There you are, she thought, her smile pulling wide on her lips. Mommy! "Here! I'm right here!" she exclaimed, pushing by a couple more people and emerging on the other side of the sidewalk, where her mother was waiting, with her arms outstretched. It felt good, when Mommy hugged her. She always smelled like flowers. Or cookies. Sometimes she smelled like a hospital, but that was just because she worked inside of one, which Eve didn't care for, but Mommy helped people, so that was good.

Mommy kissed her cheek, whispering into her ear. "Did you have a good day at school?"

"Not really," she answered truthfully. One of her many qualities, Mommy would tease. All she could do was tell the truth. Eve slipped her small hand into her mother's larger one, walking away from the school to Mommy's fancy dark blue SUV parked a few spaces from the door. I don't want to talk about it, Eve thought, taking off her backpack and passing it to her mother, who placed it in the backseat, before helping the six-year old up into her booster seat, which was set behind the passenger side. She said nothing, letting her mother lock her into the seat before closing the door with a light push.

She glanced out the window at the other kids, watching as some fathers were there, along with moms and some siblings. I want a dad, she thought, not for the first time in her life, and turned her head to face her mother, who was looking back at her; her brow was furrowed, concerned. I'm fine, she thought, looking out the window again. The school seemed to shrink from view, the SUV driving down the rocky back driveway and turned onto a street, heading towards the small thicket of houses set behind the school.

Eve, short for Evangeline, tugged at the hem of her cardigan, and pulled on a stray strand, which was distracting her. She watched it unravel, plucking it from the hem and letting the thread fall away to the backseat of the car. She didn't want to say what happened in school because sometimes it made her mother upset and especially when she asked about her daddy. Once it even made her cry and it always was sad when Mommy cried. Her big dark eyes got even bigger and she would always say that it was okay, that she didn't mean to upset her, but Eve knew that it did and well, it did upset her when Mommy cried.

The car ride was quiet, until her mother pulled the car up into their short driveway, turning off the engine and climbing out, walking around to help her out of the booster seat and set her on the ground, chuckling. "You're getting so big! Maybe we should start to rethink this booster seat, huh?"

Eve glanced up at the seat, shrugging. It wasn't so bad. She could see a lot more outside the window. "Whatever," she said, taking her backpack and placing it on her shoulder, walking up to the house. She set the bag in the foyer, looking over at the living room, where her uncle was watching TV. "Hey Bro," she greeted him, calling him what her mother called him, because it was funny.

He laughed, patting the couch. "Come up here Evie. What's going on? You learn things at school today?"

"No."

"No? That blows…." He trailed off, when her mother glared at him. He cleared his throat, chuckling. "Um, well that isn't…isn't good that you…" He rolled his eyes at Mommy's warning look, which had her giggling. "Forget it, don't say the word blows."

"Blows!"

Mommy lifted her eyebrow, shaking her head and picking up her backpack from the floor. "I don't think so young lady. That's not an appropriate word." She passed her the backpack. "Here, take this to your room. We're going to have tacos tonight, does that sound good for dinner?"

"We had tacos last week."

"I know, but I have to get rid of these vegetables we got over the weekend at the market." Mommy frowned down at her. Please don't do that, Eve thought, glancing away, not meeting her mother's gaze. If she did, then she'd ask about…yup, there she went, asking about her day. "Honey are you okay?" she whispered. She shook her head, taking a deep breath before slowly releasing it. "Is this about that kid Mark? The one that teases you?" Mommy shook her head again, her voice hard. "I've had it. I'm going to talk to your teacher, this is unacceptable that he's allowed to say things like what he says to you."

"No. Don't do that." She said it too quickly, because her mother was sighing and closing her eyes, turning and walking into the kitchen. Great. Now Mommy would call, she'd make a big deal about it and Mark would say more mean things to her. Oh well. Eve waited a moment, before she turned around, going up the stairs to her bedroom.

It was a secret, so she had to keep the door locked. Except she didn't have a lock, so she put her backpack on the floor next to her desk, taking the white chair with the pink seat cushion and dragged it over as quietly as she could, setting it in front of the door. Mommy can't know, she thought, looking around her pink and white bedroom. It had lots of stuff on the walls. Lots of paintings and pictures. There was a hockey stick hanging next to the door, with her jersey and helmet. I can't wait to go play, I wish today we had practice, she thought longingly, turning away from the door and kneeling in front of her pink and white trundle bed.

Evie knew that she had a dad. She wasn't stupid. Kids had a mom and a dad and sometimes the dad wasn't there or the mom wasn't there. Or sometimes there were two moms or two dads. She knew she had a dad, she just didn't know who he was. Not really. But she knew what he looked like. Mommy didn't know but she'd gone into her room last year, when she'd gotten upset that she didn't know who her dad was and she'd gone snooping, finally locating a picture. Just one picture. Mommy told her that her dad was someone who lived a different life. He lives in another state and he's very busy, so I didn't want to bother him, but it's okay sweetie, because it's just us, was what Mommy told her last year. Just us and your uncle, who helps out. Sometimes even Grandpa, when he wanted to visit.

Except Evie didn't really believe that. So she'd asked one of her mom's friends and asked if he knew her dad. Uncle Jason had been a little upset when she asked, but the last time he visited, he'd given her a picture to go with the one she'd stolen from her mother's room.

Her mattress was rather hard to get her hands beneath, but she grit her teeth and folded her fingers around the two pictures, tugging them out. She fell backwards on her heels, turning over and taking the pictures with her to her bed again, this time crawling up to the pillows and finally took a look at the pictures. Her mother's picture was of a guy sitting in a truck with her. They were smiling and her mom was really young looking. He had long dark hair, like hers. His eyes were like hers too and he smiled the same. The other picture, that Uncle Jason gave her, he was in a football jersey. Eve knew he played football, because her Uncle Bud had told her once that he was a really good football player, but then Mommy said not to talk about him anymore. Mommy had gotten mad at Uncle Bud that night and told him not to talk about her father again.

She sighed, shaking her head and whispering. "I wish you were here," she whispered. She wondered if he knew about her. Or if he was even alive. Once she thought she heard Mommy say something like…like "He's dead to me." Did that mean he died? Maybe he died and Mommy got sad at thinking about him. Sometimes she got sad when she thought about her guinea pig who died last year. She really hoped that he didn't die because she wanted to meet him one day if he was alive. She wanted to know if he was still around and what he did and where he was.

Mommy just got sad, so she'd…well she'd have to talk to someone else. Maybe her uncle. Uncle Bud seemed like he knew a lot but he would slip. She'd try again. Especially now that it was close to Christmas. She'd have an excuse.

"Eve! Come on downstairs for your snack honey!" Oops, she thought, hurrying off her bed and putting the pictures back beneath the mattress, removing the chair and going downstairs to where her mom was laughing at something her uncle said.

Eve smiled. "What's so funny?" she asked, walking over to her mother. She looked up, smiling again. "What did Bro say?"

"Bro is your uncle, stop calling him that," Mommy laughed, kissing the top of her head and nudging her to the table. "Take a seat and eat your snack. We'll go over your last couple of reading assignments and then do you want to come with me to the grocery store?"

"Sure." Eve set about eating her apples and cheese, not saying anything.

A moment later, her mother came up behind her and wrapped her arm around her shoulders, whispering into her ear. "I love you. To the moon and back."

Our saying, she thought, peering up and smiling. "I love you to the moon and back too Mommy," she replied. Mommy smiled, kissing her again and walked away to the living room, while her uncle made a joke about something, the two of them laughing again. It would be nice if there was a Daddy too, Eve thought, her mind going back to the picture of the guy in the football uniform upstairs. She took another bite of cheese and smiled. I'll find him, she vowed. This time she meant it. She'd find him before Christmas and maybe even give him the card she was working on.


	2. The Tantrum

_**2. The Tantrum**_

"Hey Lyla, you know this year you may actually have to tell her."

No I don't have to tell her anything, Lyla thought, putting dishes in the dishwasher and ignoring her brother's comment. As she often did when this topic of conversation came up. She cleared her throat and picked up her list from the small nook next to the refrigerator, where she kept all her bills and assorted paperwork. She made a note at the bottom to get ingredients for Christmas cookies, for the bake sale at work. "Do you want the Russian tea cookies this year?" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear and peering at her brother. "Because I really don't feel like making them, but if you want them…"

Bud rolled his eyes, picking up his can of Coke from the counter. "You have to tell her," he said again. He shook his head, his voice trembling slightly, since he was standing up to her. I'll raise your rent, she silently threatened him. Not that he had ever bothered to pay her rent for living in the basement these last six years. He swallowed hard. "Or I will tell her."

Okay, that's it. Lyla set her list down, along with her bag and car keys, walking over and pushing him against the kitchen island, whispering. "If you tell her without consulting me, I will kick you out of this house and then where will you go Bud? Not back to Kevin and Mom's. Not to Tabby's. You hate Miami, where Hastings is and you're definitely not going to move back in with Dad."

Which probably would be a good thing, she thought, frowning a little and thinking of her father. He needed help. He'd had two heart attacks and a series of ministrokes. It was a miracle he was still alive, but he needed someone full time. His part-time caretaker down in Dillon didn't count. Besides, Bud dealt with him because she physically couldn't. "Have you even talked to Dad in the last six months?" Bud demanded.

How did this become an argument about their father? Well fine, she'd rather it be about their father than about Eve's father. "I spoke with him last week," Lyla said. For a grand total of ten minutes. Buddy's attention span was even shorter since his last stroke. That wasn't saying much, because he didn't have a very long attention span when he was relatively healthy. She rolled her eyes at Bud's frown. "I spoke to him last week, Bud. He's doing fine, he barely slurred during the conversation, so I take it he's going to his physical therapy sessions?" That was more of a question for Bud about something else than it was a statement.

Lyla glanced up, waiting on Bud's answer. He sighed, obviously annoyed. "Lyla," he mumbled, looking around the kitchen. He walked around her to the fridge, taking out a bottle of water. He was clearly conflicted. Just answer the question, she thought, her hand on her hip, waiting for his response. Bud sighed hard, shrugging. "I talked to him two days ago. He said that Dad is going to his physical therapy sessions, he's driving himself and that he went to his house and cleaned up. Problem is that Dad still isn't eating right. He'll try to go to the grocery store for him, but he has a big thing this weekend." Bud mumbled, looking down at his shoes. "He's got a girlfriend."

"Dad?" Lyla exclaimed. Buddy could barely run the bar right now, how did he have time for a girlfriend? She frowned. "Is it Angela? She doesn't count as a girlfriend. She's…off and on all the time."

Bud looked pained. Oh, she realized, drawing back. She turned around, walking across the kitchen to her bag. "Lyla, seriously?"

It was fine, she thought, thinking of her boyfriend. Sort of boyfriend. Carter was a very nice guy, he worked at the hospital with her. They'd been…going for coffee and she slept with him every so often when she had that itch to scratch, but were they exclusive? Not really. Carter didn't want a six-year old to deal with. Lyla didn't want a guy to meet her six-year old, so all was fine right now. I'm not…why did this piss her off? She turned around, her bag on her shoulder and holding her car keys in her hand. "He's got a girlfriend?" Her brow wrinkled; when did he get a girlfriend? Who was it? Anyone she knew?

Her brother shot her a look that made her immediately regret asking. It wasn't like she asked him to lie or anything about stuff, but she knew he was growing weary of being the go-between. "I'm not answering that," Bud said, walking over to the door to the basement, where he lived. He turned around, holding it open and shot her another dark look. "If you want to know about his life, all you have to do is talk to him and he knows it. You know it. But you won't because you're a coward Lyla." He took a few steps and paused again, turning and looking over his shoulder, his voice cold. "Tell him he has a daughter."

No, she wanted to scream, ignoring the basement door slamming. Lyla called up the stairs. "Evie, baby! Come on, we're going to go to the grocery store!" She waited a moment, frowning when she thought she heard something scraping against the floor. "Honey? Are you okay?"

"Fine!" a small voice called from upstairs. The door opened and Eve ran out, shrugging on her coat. She smiled up, which had Lyla cringing inwardly. She loved her daughter so much, but it was growing harder and harder to deny her parentage. Why couldn't you look like me, she wondered, reaching down to help Eve with her coat and mittens. "Can I ride in the cart this time?"

"Carts are for groceries and you're not groceries," Lyla said, dropping a kiss to her daughter's soft dark curls. She opened the front door, walking out of the small frame house she owned several blocks from Lake Michigan. Chicago was not her first choice, but when you were walking into your job interviews seven months pregnant, you didn't have much of a choice when one out of ten interviews actually called you back. Thankfully, Northwestern called her back and offered her a decent salary and maternity leave package. Nevertheless, she'd unfortunately, and regretfully, cut short her time off with her newborn to go back to work. Her brother had moved in with her not long after to help take care of Eve and six-years later, he still hadn't left.

She took Eve's hand, making sure that Eve was holding onto the canvas grocery bags tightly and set off down the stairs of the frame house and across the short front yard and out the fence. Lyla glanced at the short driveway beside her house and at her SUV. She shoved the keys into her tote bag. "Let's walk," she decided. It was a nice afternoon and it soon wouldn't be so nice once the snow hit.

"Walk?" Eve giggled, trotting along beside her. "Why?"

"Because it's a nice day silly."

"When can I play hockey?"

"Practice is tomorrow," Lyla told her. She had to work, but Bud could get off early and take her if need me. If she really was in a jam, she could call one of the other moms or dads to pick up Eve from school with another hockey kid. Buddy told her that his granddaughter would not play hockey. It was a communist sport. It was a Midwestern sport, she wanted to say. Plus, my daughter wants to play it. If she wanted to play football, Lyla would let her play football.

She glanced down at Eve, who was looking around their Roscoe Village neighborhood, watching the last bit of leaves fall off the skeleton-like trees. It was the first week of December. They should get some more snow soon. There were still some patches of it on lawns and on the curbs from the Thanksgiving storm a couple weeks back. "Mommy," Eve announced, breaking her thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Can we go somewhere for Christmas?"

"Go somewhere? Don't you want to stay in Chicago?" Lyla removed her phone from her tote bag, checking an incoming text. She frowned slightly, stopping at the curb. "Hang on, let me see who this is, I don't recognize the number." She opened up the text and studied it.

_I need to talk to you about your dad. I don't want to be the one to break the ice first, but someone has to do it. _

It was a West Texas area code. Lyla sighed. Son of a bitch. Why was all this happening today? It seemed to come in fits and starts, but never this all at once. She put the phone away, smiling warmly at Eve, who was frowning. "Just your uncle, he wants us to pick up some stuff for him. Look both ways," she said, glancing up and down the street as they crossed.

"Mommy can we go see Grandpa? I haven't seen him in forever."

"You saw him last year." Buddy came up for Christmas. It had been a disaster. When he traveled now he got anxious and upset. His limp had returned and without a lot of the familiarities of home, he became forgetful. I need to seriously think about what's going to happen with him, Lyla thought, sighing. She didn't want to put him anywhere. He was still young. Just…not healthy anymore.

"But I want to go to Texas."

"Well I think maybe we could invite Mr. and Mrs. Saracen over for Christmas dinner, do you think that would be nice? They have a new baby." Lyla wasn't that close with Matt and Julie, even if they'd been living in the same city for close to eight years. She didn't even know they were in Chicago until her father mentioned something about it after she moved there. So she'd reached out and it was nice having some sort of comfort of home, but they ran in a different circle than her. She was going to Mommy and Me classes while they were going to art shows and plays and museum openings.

Eve shrugged; she probably has no idea who I'm talking about, Lyla thought, turning another corner and walking towards the grocery store. "Mommy," Eve tried again, hurrying her feet to keep up with Lyla's long strides. If they got to the store, they could get out quickly and get back home and she could start trying to figure out what to do about the situation in Dillon.

"Honey, I really don't think this is the time to talk about it." Lyla entered the grocery store and gave Eve a basket to put the canvas bags into. She smiled down at her. "We'll talk later. Let's check our list and see what we need. First thing, bananas, go get some bananas for me." Motherhood is exhausting, she thought, sighing as Eve shrugged and went to get some bananas. She got her off that topic for now, but it would come back. Eve was like a dog with a bone. She wasn't going to let go just because someone said drop it. Lyla glanced at her phone, which was buzzing again.

_Are you going to talk to me?_

Why do you care, she wanted to scream at the phone. She took a deep breath and glanced at Eve, who was a few feet in front of her selecting a plastic pint of strawberries. Lyla shook her head and tapped out a response. She hovered her thumb over the message and chuckled. There was no way in hell she would send it, even if it felt a little good to type it.

_My daughter Evangeline is your daughter too. _She deleted it and just typed back a single word reply: _No. _No, I'm not going to talk to you. There was too much between them and she wasn't interested in reliving the past. She caught up to Eve, checking the list and finding that Eve had selected all the fruit that was on the list. "Good girl, let me take that basket, it's getting heavy."

They traded baskets and Eve kept walking, but stopped in the aisle, looking down it. Lyla tossed a box of cereal into her basket and glanced down at her daughter. What are you looking at, she wondered, following Eve's silent and intense gaze. She sighed, her heart cracking a little in her chest. At the end of the aisle was a girl about Eve's age, standing with who Lyla assumed was her father. They were both laughing and he tossed the girl up and carried her off on his hip. It was becoming an issue, she thought; the teachers warned her about it at the start of the school year, when Eve first began to get teased for having a 'different' family. I can handle it, she'd told them. She has a strong male role model in her life. My brother. Who wasn't as bad as people said he was. He just was a bit flaky, but he wasn't stupid. He could live on his own, but he chose to stay to help her.

Lyla cleared her throat, lightly tugging Eve's hand away from the aisle. "Let's go, I think we have what we need."

"Mommy, where is my daddy?" I knew you were going to ask that, Lyla sighed. She took the things from the basket and began to put them on the conveyor belt at the register. Eve wrinkled her nose up; it was the first sign of a rare tantrum. "Where is he?"

He's in Dillon, Texas, she felt like saying. He's in Dillon, Texas, and he'll never leave and I'll never go back. I found out I was pregnant, I was planning on telling him, and he said that he never wanted to see me again. That I always messed up his life and he was going to finally tell me so. He said mean things. Very mean things. So you know what? Here we are. That's where your father is. But of course, she could not say such a thing to a six-year old, let alone anyone. So she shook her head, answering softly in her standard answer. "He's somewhere else Eve. Give me the bags please."

What happened next was not what she was expecting. At all. Rather than hand it to her….Eve threw the bag at her. Just tugged her little arm back like she was going to pass a football across the field, but chucked the grocery bag at her. Whoa. She felt her nostrils flare and her eyebrows lift, surprised and angry at the same time. Eve didn't seem to care, staring back at her with a stubborn frown. What the hell…she set her jaw and glared down at her daughter. "Watch it," Lyla warned, fully aware that the cashier was watching her and trying to keep her anger from trembling into her voice. She held up her finger and arched an eyebrow again; her voice harder than it was a moment before. "First warning Eve."

"I hate you."

That was also a new one. Eve had never said anything like that before. She'd come close a few times, when she got really angry; Lyla always thought she heard it from kids at school. She didn't pause this time. "Second warning," she snapped, helping pack the grocery bags. A few minutes later, she forked over her credit card and gathered the bags, turning and looking down at Eve, who hadn't moved from her spot. Her tiny face was curled into a snarl. It looked too familiar for Lyla's liking. "Let's go."

"No."

Alright, she was done with this. "Evangeline Garrity." Don't make me say your real name, she thought, glaring at her daughter. She held up her fingers. "I'm counting to three right now."

"So?" Eve retorted, glaring at her with a surly look. Where did you learn to behave like this, Lyla wondered, scowling at her. It was so unlike her. Yes, she got into moods, she was a child. But she had never been this blatantly insubordinate. Lyla looked away, beginning to lose her nerve, especially since now several people were just staring at her.

This is mortifying. "Eve, one." She held up another finger. "Two." I have never gotten to three, she thought, her heart pounding. Do not let me get to three. Hell, I don't even know what I'll do if I get to three, I've never had to punish you beyond time out chair and taking away toys. This time though, the overarching threat of no toys and sitting in a chair in the corner wasn't enough. Eve placed her hands on her hips, shooting her another defiant look. Okay. "Three." She marched over and grabbed Eve around her waist. I've had it. Eve let out a scream and began to sob. Very fake, petulant sobs. Never in my life, Lyla thought, marching from the grocery store with Eve. She juggled the bags and Eve on her hip, who was now shouting how she hated her.

Tears threatened to pour down her cheeks, but her anger and even a bit of fear at Eve's outburst overrode those feelings. I have to get you home, that's all I have to do right now is get you home and hopefully this will blow over, Lyla thought, walking down the sidewalk away from the store. A police officer leaned out of his car window as they approached it on the curb. "Excuse me? Ma'am? Do you need some help?"

You probably think I'm abusing her or something. Rather than pretend it was okay, Lyla quickly decided to use it as a learning opportunity. Take advantage of the situation, as it were. "Yes, do you arrest six-year olds for not listening to their mothers?" Lyla set Eve down on the ground and knelt to her height, frowning. In the presence of a police officer, Eve wiped at her eyes, but there were no tears. It was all fake. "Because I might have to have you take this one in. I had to count to three and everything."

The police officer looked at Eve, keeping his voice level. "What did you do young lady?"

It seemed to work a bit, because now Eve looked afraid. "Nothing," she sobbed; that was real, Lyla judged, feeling a bit bad now. Eve knew police officers were good, but they were authority. She'd never been in trouble like this before. So hell, maybe it was good she was a little scared. She scowled at Lyla. "You're mean. You won't tell me my daddy."

Well this is even more mortifying, Lyla thought, her face flushing. She looked at the police officer, whose eyebrows were in his hairline. It was backfiring on her big time now. Once again Eve didn't seem to care. She sighed and shook her head. "That is a personal matter Eve. We don't tell everyone our personal matters. Do you understand?"

Eve swallowed hard, now staring up at the officer. Maybe it was working, Lyla thought. After a moment, the little girl nodded slowly, mumbling. "Yes."

"Yes what?" the officer asked her.

She rolled her eyes upwards again, ticking them towards Lyla, whispering. "Yes ma'am."

"Good," the officer said, taking control of the situation. He pointed his finger towards her. "Acting like that isn't going to get you anywhere in life. Your mom seems like a nice and fair lady, listen to her. Although I would suggest no television or video games if I were her, so you might be lucky if she doesn't do that."

Oh no, it's happening. "Thank you Officer," Lyla said, putting a bit of Texas twang into her voice. She glanced at Eve, stern. "No television and…" She swallowed hard. This was going to hurt. "No hockey."

"No!" she cried, tears forming again. Real ones. "Mommy, please!"

"Show me you can act like a little girl. A nice little girl that I know you can be." And stop asking about your father. Listen when I tell you to drop it. She turned away from the police car after receiving a sympathetic look from the cop, walking back down the street to the house, her grip firm on Eve's hand.

"Mommy you're hurting me! Stop it!"

You stop it, she felt like saying, but she didn't, keeping her emotions in check. She wanted to burst into tears. My daughter really might hate me one day for doing things, but…she's six-years old. She's going to get over it soon, Lyla prayed, continuing down the street with Eve. They got to the house, Bud's car gone from the driveway. Damnit, she could have used him for backup. She went up into the house, slamming the door behind her and dropping the bags on the floor. "Get upstairs," she ordered, pointing to Eve's room.

Eve turned, storming up the stairs and Lyla followed her into her bedroom, where she grabbed her various video games and her tablet. She shoved them into a pink bag she grabbed from the corner, along with Eve's hockey stick and skates. That started another tantrum, sobbing how mean she was. Fine, I'm mean, she thought, turning around and pointing to the bed. "You can stay there until you apologize to me for saying what you said. Do you think you would like it if I told you that I hated you?" she asked, her voice trembling. She took a deep breath, swallowing it and frowning at Eve. That seemed to sit with her. "Do you think that you would like it if I said that you were mean and I hated you? I don't think you would."

"No," she blubbered.

"Then you don't say it to anyone. Especially Mommy." She bit her lip, holding up the bag of stuff. "This is going to be in my room until you can apologize to me and act like the good girl that I know you are." Lyla turned around and shut the door to a crack, walking across the hall into her bedroom. She shut the door and dropped the bags in the corner of her room, walking over to the picture window looking out over the backyard.

Very slowly, she descended onto the pillows, leaning against the wall and staring. It was getting colder. Snow was coming again, she thought, seeing the clouds in the distance. She closed her eyes, drawing her knees to her chest and began to cry. I don't know how to do this, she thought, wiping at her eyes. Maybe I am a bad mommy.

She hiccupped and reached beneath the picture window seat where there were some built in cabinets and drawers. In one, she slowly pushed aside mementos of her childhood and youth; folding her fingers around one photograph she kept between the pages of her battered copy of Dostoyevsky's _The Idiot_. It was irony for her, she thought, staring at the bent, creased, and faded photo.

Once upon a time ago I imagined a life where I was an NFL wife, working with charities and throwing lavish parties. Attending Sunday football games and sitting in the family club box. Watching my husband go through Notre Dame and get a first round draft pick to some fabulous city, where we'd have a penthouse and a country home and maybe even a vacation home in Florida or Hawaii or the Caribbean. We'd donate our time and money to church and charity, I'd follow him to the end of the earth, and always be the supportive wife. We'd have two children, a boy and a girl, the boy first and the girl second. They would look just like me and Jason. Their names would be Mary and John, because she liked those names from the Bible. Maybe Rachel, she wasn't sure.

That would be my life, she thought, staring at the photo. She closed her eyes, tears tracking down her already stained and flushed cheeks. "My life," she murmured, opening her eyes again. She never pitied herself. Never, ever pitied herself. She wasn't very good at it. Right now though, she felt a bit ashamed for pitying herself, when she had so much help. It wasn't how she ever imagined it would be when she was a stupid 16-year old little girl, but it was good. It was a happy, good life and she loved it so much.

But wouldn't it be nice once and awhile for it to be like how she imagined it would? How it was supposed to be when she was naïve and innocent?

I love my job, she repeated, her affirmations coming in handy right now. I love my life. My brother helps me when he doesn't have to; he cares for my daughter when he could just be an uncle from afar. I have a great job, with benefits and good pay and I love my little house and neighborhood and Chicago is not the fabulous city I imagined, but it was better than most out there.

And I have a healthy, happy child; she finished, still looking at the image. She pursed her lips, sighing hard through her nose, feeling her nostrils flare again. The father was different. He wasn't supposed to be in her life. In her husband's life, but not her life. Somehow she'd fallen in love, she'd walked away at great pain to herself, she'd grown up. And then she'd gone back and look what happened. "Three-percent chance," she quoted. She'd made a mistake. Won the reproductive lottery.

Lyla heard her door push open slowly and lifted her head, seeing a tiny face peering at her through the crack. She wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath, still holding the picture. She swallowed hard as Eve stepped more into the room, her angular face stained with tears and her eyes red-rimmed. She sniffed and wiped beneath her nose, which was equally red. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Genuinely sorry, Lyla thought, nodding in acceptance.

"Come here," she whispered, holding her arm out. Eve hurried across the room, lifting her feet up to sit beside her on the window seat, her knees drawn to her chest. She turned the photo over, her voice firm again. "Thank you for your apology. You still don't get hockey, but you can have the TV tonight." I have to show her that I will at least punish her, Lyla thought, trying to hide her pain at Eve's fallen face. She swallowed hard again. "It's just not good to say what you said today. I hope you learned your lesson."

"I did." We'll see, Lyla thought. You're six. You still have many years left to keep disobeying me.

"Okay." Lyla sighed again, shaking her head and turned the photo around. She knew Eve had seen a photo of him. Jason or Bud or someone probably slipped her one, against her orders that no one mention anything. "This is your daddy."

Eve's eyes grew round, studying the picture. It's different, Lyla thought. The ones that Eve surely had he was in high school. Probably at least smiling or something. Probably playing football. This was different. "What is it?" she whispered, finally asking.

Lyla cocked her head. She'd printed the newspaper article on photo paper, to save for posterity. She swallowed hard, pointing. "It's an article the paper did on your daddy. He built that house in the background." The article was about turning your life around. A local felon, gone to jail, done his time, and came out on the other side wanting to do something legitimate. So he'd built his house on his own, from the studs up and did some remodeling here and there, got a few extra clients, and took the money and turned it around and put into buying some cattle. Some horses. Started a ranch and everything.

And in the photo, he was a far cry from anything in a high school photo, she thought. That's probably why Eve seemed surprised. He wasn't smiling. His face was a lot thinner. He was still angry and his hair was short. The article came out two days after he'd completely exploded on her, sending her away for good. Probably why he's so angry, she thought, closing her eyes and trying not to relive that moment.

_"Go ruin someone else's life for a change. Get off my property."_

_"What are you going to do? Call the cops?"_

_"You break everything you touch. Guess I'm lucky it wasn't my neck, like that other guy." _

It was just really hard, she thought, hugging her daughter tight against her and letting her hold the photo. She buried her face into Eve's dark curly hair, whispering. "You're not a mistake," she murmured. She kissed her temple, blinking through tears. No matter what he said about us. He doesn't know you. He'll never know you, she vowed again. Her voice cracked. "I love you Evangeline."

Eve tilted her cheek up, oblivious to the undercurrents of emotion coursing through Lyla. "Love you Mommy."

Lyla looked out the window, still clutching Eve, while the little girl just stared at the picture in her small hands. Even after she got off the picture seat and the photo when back into the book in the drawer, Lyla knew that something had changed. She couldn't keep living in her happy fantasy anymore.


	3. The Letter to Santa

**_3. The Letter to Santa_**

"So are you going to tell him?"

Why had this become the prevailing topic in this house, Lyla wondered, looking up over her desk at her visitor. Thankfully he was only in town for a couple of days and she didn't have to put up with him for very long. "Why do you care?" she asked, finishing off the online order for pizza and pasta. She typed in the last digit of her credit card number and hit confirm. She looked up. "Pizza and everything should be here in twenty minutes."

"Is that your version of cooking?" Jason teased, pushing his chair from the buffet table in the dining room, where he'd been looking at several photos she had displayed. He wheeled himself towards her, stopping at her desk in the adjacent room, his happy smile fading and his eyes softening somewhat. "Lyla. You and I both know that Eve is asking questions. She can't let it go." He frowned. "And she shouldn't have to let it go. It's going to get worse when she gets older. Do you want her to run away or something and go find him? Do you want her to like those cliché girls with daddy issues?"

No, but she has strong male role models in her life. Those women don't. Lyla shook her head, keeping her voice even. It wouldn't do well to get angry at Jason; of the two of them, his allegiance was, in the very end, not with his ex-girlfriend. "She has my brother," she said, shaking her head at Jason's eyeroll. "And yes, is he in his mid-twenties and working as a manager of a Nike store? Yes. Is he living in his sister's basement instead of his own house? Yes. Does he go through women like water? Yes. He's not a saint but he loves Eve and she loves him. He's there for her."

"But he's not her father," Jason stressed. He shook his head, his eyes widening. He finally slammed his eyebrows together, frowning. "Lyla, we've had this conversation a hundred times since I figured it out, he didn't have his parents, do you think he would like it knowing that he has a child out there he doesn't know about?"

No. That was one of her arguments for telling him. Lyla shook her head again, closing down the computer and getting up from the desk, carrying an empty glass into the kitchen. She began to pick up after Eve and Bud, their various crap floating around her house. "No, but Jason…"

He interrupted her. "Lyla, he's going to kill you when he finds out. He will find out. Your dad knows and he's starting to slip a lot more." Jason's frown smoothed out, sympathetic. Don't pity me, Lyla thought, shooting him a sideways glare. He pursed his lips, pausing and glancing down at his feet, thinking about what he was going to say. While he thought, Lyla rummaged through Eve's backpack, removing art projects and her take-home folder with papers she needed to be aware of and slips to sign for various events. As she pulled out a large piece of construction paper folded in half, Jason finally lifted his head. "Lyla I just…" he trailed off, immediately frowning. "What?"

Oh my God. She covered her mouth with her palm, staring at the card. She pushed it towards him and slumped down into a chair at the table, her fingertips touching her temple. I'm so tired of this day. This week, she thought, looking up at Jason, who had simply set the paper down on the edge of the table. "What?" she demanded.

"Nothing."

"Yes, you want to say something, so say it Jason. Just say it." Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She looked at the card, her voice trembling and thickening. "Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas this year is a Daddy. I've been very good. I want him back home. I want Mommy to not be sad." She threw the paper aside and hung her head in her hands. Oh my God, she thought, her shoulders slumping together and the tears beginning again. Why now? Why all this now? Was it just because she was maturing? Realizing the differences she didn't understand as a baby? Maybe. Maybe it was something else. I don't know. She lifted her face, knowing she looked a mess. Just looking at Jason, at his look…he didn't know whether to feel sorry for her or help her or teach her a lesson. "I'm a terrible mother," she sobbed.

I'm a bad mom, that's what this is about. A bad person. She hiccupped and felt his arms go over her head as she slumped her head into his lap, her arms going around his torso, holding on for dear life as he folded himself over her, hugging her in the only way he could. "I love you Lyla," he breathed. He was her best friend. The only person who knew. He sighed, whispering. "I love you so much and I don't agree with this, but…God, you are not a terrible mother. You love that little girl so much and…and you did all this on your own. You are only trying to help her." He chuckled. "I don't agree with it, but…you're not terrible."

I'm just selfish. She lifted her face, her arms moving to link around his neck. She sniffed, meeting his eyes. What do I do now? "This is beyond anything that's ever happened," she whispered. I can't just tell him. I did this to myself. She snorted, throwing her hands up before letting them fall to her knees. She was defeated. It's all my fault and now I don't know what to do. She sniffed again, another round of tears threatening to fall. "I always have an answer Jason…I always know what to do. I just…I don't know what to do right now."

They both shared another sad, guilt-ridden look. He was just as guilty as she was in this, but…she put him there. It was her fault he had been seeing his friend for six years and hadn't told him. He swallowed hard, nodding slightly, and looked to his hands. "He's my best friend Lyla. I will always choose him over you, but…" he trailed off, whispering. Answering her unasked question. "I never told him all this time because…" he sighed. She looked up again. Why not? He smiled, sad. "Because if I told him it would hurt him more than it would if you told him…so I'm just…waiting…waiting for the day when he finds out that all this time I've known." He sighed and then chuckled, whispering. "I guess the funny thing is, that's going to hurt him even more, so…we're both screwed."

We're both screwed. Merry Freakin' Christmas. She wiped at her eyes, sniffling. I don't know what to say about all this. "I just want my baby to be okay," she breathed. In the end, everything was about her. She hiccupped, shrugging. "And I'm sorry Jason, but I wasn't going to tell him…what do you think he'd have done? He was so…horrible." He was horrible to me. He was bitter and angry and nothing I said or did would have changed that.

"He'd been through a lot," he said.

I don't care. She shook her head. "I didn't want my baby around that behavior. I didn't want her to be around him when he was like that…I just…I didn't want it." She had cousins. Eve had three cousins. She should know them. Should know her uncle. Her aunt. She hiccupped again, lifting her head, about to ask Jason about what they should do, when she saw Eve sneaking down the stairs. Oh God. How long had she been sitting there? "Baby, I can see you," she called, trying to hide the tears. She wiped at her eyes quickly as Eve slipped down the stairs. She held her arms out. "You ready for pizza? I got cheesy bread."

"I love cheesy bread," Eve said. She crawled into her lap and rested her head on her shoulder. "Mommy, can I write Santa a letter?"

I think you already did, she thought, looking up at Jason. He shook his head slightly. I know…don't mention it. She wrapped her arms tighter around Eve. The little girl was so confused, so…innocent in all of this. All she wanted was a dad. So she asked Santa for one. All she wanted was a mother who…who didn't cry herself to sleep most nights. She heaved a hard sigh, kissing Eve's temple. "I love you," she whispered. She nodded, Eve turning her head a little to face her. She smiled quickly. Just put on a happy face Lyla. You've done it for six years. "Yes. You can write Santa a letter."

Eve smiled wide, her eyes brightening. God, Lyla thought, her stomach clenching. She looked so much like him. Just around the eyes. Just…certain moments. They stand side by side and there was no questioning they would be related. On her own, she was unique. Different, but it was still there. Mostly in the eyes. The facial expressions. It was crazy how that could be passed down. She leaned against the table, watching Eve run to the desk to get out a piece of paper. She glanced at the cardboard paper. Jason shrugged, whispering. "I guess she forgot about it."

I guess. She took the paper, folding it up and slipping it back into the backpack. "Eve, take your backpack upstairs," she called.

Eve ran back in, her dark ponytail bouncing on her shoulders. She ignored the request, crawling into Jason's lap. "Where is your baby?" she asked.

"Ellie is not a baby," Lyla chided. Ellie would take great offense to that, as she was three and did not believe she was a baby.

Jason chuckled, his arm around Eve. "My baby is with her mommy. Auntie Erin is New York City. I'm here with my boy, Noah. Remember him?"

"Yes, where is he?"

"He's with Uncle Bud," Lyla answered. She lifted her eyebrows. "And we're all having pizza and pasta and cheesy bread. Why don't you go upstairs and wash your hands? It should be here soon."

That didn't stop her. Eve turned again to Jason, her nose wrinkled. She glanced back, a shrewd look on her face. No, don't do it, she thought, her eyes narrowing. I know. You're going to do it. Don't, Evangeline, she felt like saying, an eyebrow lifting as Eve turned to Jason again. "Did you know my daddy?" she asked. Blurted out, more like.

Oh God. Jason swore he wouldn't lie to her. When he'd confronted her on the matter, back when Eve was just five weeks old, not fifteen minutes after he'd held her for the first time. He told her he wouldn't lie to her if she asked. Lyla held her head in her hands, waiting for the answer. It took a moment and Jason cleared his throat. "Yes. I did."

Here it goes, she thought, lifting her head, staring dumbly at her daughter and Jason. Eve seemed surprised to actually get a positive answer. She shifted on Jason's knees, her arms still around him. "Oh," she said. She waited a moment. "Is he nice?"

"He can be."

Well Jason was keeping to his word. Lyla leaned back, crossing her arms and legs, waiting for the shoe to drop. She stared at him, waiting. Eve smiled, a little wider. It showed off her missing teeth. "What's he look like?" she asked. She shrugged. "I have pictures, but what's he look like?" Such a little kid thing, Lyla thought, smiling slightly. She wanted someone to talk to her about him. Not just see it on a newspaper clipping or old, worn memory.

"He looks kind of like you," Jason answered. He waited a second and smiled, his voice quiet. "But your Mommy doesn't like to talk about him, so I think to be nice, we won't talk about him anymore, but I can answer any questions you have, is that okay?" He shot her a look, warning her. Almost daring her to say something.

Eve looked over at her. "It makes you sad?" she whispered.

Of course Eve would see it that way. She nodded. "Yes," she whispered. She swallowed hard, looking to Jason again. Don't say a word, let me handle this. He nodded slightly, agreeing silently. "It makes me sad. I miss him."

"Then say hi to him."

"Wish it worked like that," she said. She sighed. If everything could go the way children thought they could. Just say sorry and it'll be okay. Just say hello and it'll be okay. Maybe it would, but…she sighed again. It just wouldn't and she knew it.

She propped her chin on her hand, looking at Jason. He slightly nodded again. Let me do this, he was telling her. I don't know. She shook her head, imperceptibly, so Eve didn't catch on to their silent conversation. Kids sensed things, which Eve already was, her eyes lifting up as no one said anything. Jason coughed and then smiled down at Eve, who looped her arm around his neck again, tighter. Not wanting to let go. He cuddled her close. "You know something Eve?"

"What?"

"Because I know your Daddy, how about you ask me the questions? I'll tell you about him." He paused. "But…only if it's okay with your Mommy?" He turned his head, smiling a little. Almost smirking. He was getting his way. "Is that okay Mommy? To tell Eve about her dad?"

Eve's eyes widened, almost filling with tears. That face. That face she had had since birth, which was passed down from her father. The 'I can get anything I want if I just put the sad puppy dog eyes' face. Lyla closed her eyes. She was a pushover for that face. Only on Eve, not on the other person. It was going to happen eventually…they'd already gotten this far in the past few days. More than they had in the six years Eve had been alive. "Fine," she whispered. She smiled briefly. "You can tell her about him."

Jason nodded smartly. "Okay then. What do you want to know Eve?"

It seemed like Eve was overwhelmed with the notion that after all this time she had free reign. To be able to ask anything? It must have been a lot for her little psyche. Lyla could only hope it would be too much and she wouldn't want to know. Eve frowned slightly, looking at her hand and then up again to Jason. "Does he not like me?" she whispered.

Oh shit. Lyla buried her face into her hands, getting up from the table. This was over. No more. It was a terrible idea. "Eve, forget it."

"No!"

Jason glared at her before he looked to Eve. "He doesn't know," he whispered. He kissed her temple and helped her off his knees. "But he will and he will love you, because you know why Eve?"

Eve sniffled. "Why?" she whispered.

He leaned down, touching his nose to hers. He grinned. "Because everyone loves you."

That got her smiling. "They do?"

"Yes, they do. Everyone loves you when they meet you. I know I did."

"But you always know me," she giggled. She smiled angelically. "You knowed' me since I was born, right?"

He nodded again. "I did at that. Saw you when you were only a few weeks old, didn't I Lyla?" He shot her a look, as though saying 'remember?' Oh she remembered. Lyla inhaled deeply, drawing her spine straight and her head up proudly. She knew and remembered very well. Jason figured out her secret. And it only took him ten seconds.

* * *

><p><em>"She's so perfect Lyla, you make a good baby."<em>

_She barely glanced from her daughter, too busy being in love with her to really acknowledge her father. With an even voice, barely above a whisper, she chuckled. "Daddy that's creepy."_

_"You know what I mean. Can I hold her again?"_

_Her brother scowled. "It's my turn next."_

_"You can both hold her later, right now she's mine." She's always mine, she thought again, rocking carefully in the antique chair she'd bought on a whim, a couple of days before she'd gone into labor. Lucky for her, she'd been at work when she'd gone into later and all they'd done was whisk her away from the neurology floor to the delivery wing. My baby, she thought again, her left arm barely functioning. It's sole purpose for the past three weeks was to support her newborn, while her right hand was often resting on the bundle of blankets. Right now it was fairly warm in her house, so she'd chosen the beautiful lightweight christening blanket that Mrs. Taylor had sent her from Philadelphia. It was embroidered on the bottom with the baby's initials. E.M.G. Evangeline Mary Garrity._

_That's the name she'd told people. Eve's real name on her birth certificate was different. She'd had them draw it up before she left the hospital and promptly buried it in her locked box in her bedroom with all her other important paperwork. She looked up, surprised to see Buddy and Bud had gone. Good. She was exhausted. She knew she should sleep when Eve slept, but she just couldn't right now. She leaned in the chair, closing her eyes, whispering Eve's real name, just so she could hear it. "Evangeline Mary Garrity Riggins," she murmured. She opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling, painted to look like clouds. She shook her head. What was she doing? _

_It wasn't too late, a little voice told her. You can tell him. She's only three weeks old. He'll have missed the pregnancy, that was nothing. It wasn't like he'd have been able to do anything anyway. No, the other voice said. He was a monster, treating you the way he did. Saying those things to you. You're doing him a favor, staying away. This would send him through the roof. But he didn't have parents, the other voice said. It's not fair to him to not give him a choice. But you don't want to get hurt again, the protesting voice chanted, repeating. Don't get hurt again. Don't get hurt again. _

_"Stop it," she murmured, opening her eyes once more. She lowered her head, hearing creaking. There was a lot of noise. She frowned, hearing a clang of some sort and rattling. "Hello?" she softly called. Eve moved in her blanket, her eyes flickering open. Oh no, don't wake up, she panicked, sitting up in the chair, looking at the door as it creaked open. Her eyes widened. "Jason!"_

_In the doorway, her brother was pushing Jason's chair over the carpet. "I got it Bud, thanks man," Jason said, looking spent. He shook his head, chuckling. "Those stairs are a bitch when you can't walk."_

_"Oh my goodness," she exclaimed. How did he get up? She looked at her brother, who was cracking his back. "You carried him!?"_

_"Half dragged was more like," Bud said. He bumped fists with Jason. "Catch you later man, just let me know when you want to come downstairs."_

_She smiled wide, beaming at the sight of her old friend. How did he know? She hadn't called him. She reached her arm out for him as he pushed himself forward. "Come here," she breathed, puffing with pride. She turned Eve towards him, elated to share this moment. "Look at her."_

_Jason looked like he was the father, so proud and grinning down at her. "Oh Lyla, she's just beautiful…" his voice quieted, answering her silent question. It must have shown on her face. "Coach told me. He heard from Julie I take it."_

_"I called Mrs. Taylor. She checked in on me when she'd visit them." It was nice to live in Chicago, working there while she went to school at Northwestern. Their school of medicine was in downtown Chicago. Not the greatest area by any means. Buddy was helping her with her mortgage on her house. When she'd gotten pregnant it had been terrifying, the idea of her school loans and working and studying and everything. She wouldn't be too far behind. Julie and Matt were here, they weren't close with her, but had vowed to help in anyway they could for an old Dillon friend. She had friends too, from med school. Spend a couple years there, you developed a lot of friends. You had to. Buddy had said he'd help as much as he could, now that the bar and its franchise locations were going gangbusters. Payback for not being able to help her with school like he should have. _

_It was nice though. Being here. Chicago was an interesting city and she loved it. She knew she should think about…about the future. Daddy wasn't doing well. He'd had a heart attack the year before and her brother told her he thought maybe he'd even had a ministroke. Something had happened at the bar and he'd gotten a phone call from…someone. Buddy said he was fine, but her brother wasn't so sure. Lyla didn't think he was that bad. Scattered, but he was always scattered. She leaned farther back into the chair, continuing to rock. "She looks like you a bit," Jason murmured, touching the tiny hand in a mitten. He chuckled. "It's funny how much they look like little blobs, but then you start to see…" he cocked his head as Eve opened her eyes, which were still a little scrunched up. He didn't say anything, but Lyla saw his face kind of even out. Like he was thinking. He looked away. "So…you going to share with me who the happy father is in this situation?"_

_She had the story planned. The father was an ex-boyfriend from her first year at Northwestern. They'd dated for only a few months, so she hadn't introduced him to anyone. They'd gotten drunk, hadn't really paid any attention, and he'd moved back to some other school and wasn't in her life after she told him. "An ex-boyfriend," she said. It was close enough to the truth, so she didn't feel that uncomfortable with it. She was speaking quietly, keeping the emotion from getting to her. "It's no one Jason. He's not in her life."_

_"Can you do this?"_

_What kind of a question was that? "Yes," she snapped, maybe harsher than necessary. She felt her palms start to sweat a little. What was he getting at with this line of questioning? "It's my life, I can handle it."_

_"I know you can, I'm just…you know…this is so different Lyla. I mean…" he trailed off and laughed, looking up at the ceiling. He finally dropped his eyes to hers, dead serious, and his voice hard. "My son wasn't planned by any means. I didn't even know Erin. The only thing I knew was that I was going to be a father and I would do anything for my family. I understand what you're going through, but believe me, I also understand what some guy out there might be going through too. So tell me, please, does he know and does he actually not want anything to do with this situation?"_

_Don't lie to me, he was silently conveying, almost begging. She swallowed hard. It wasn't necessarily a lie. More like a fib, and was that truly a lie? Lies by omission are still lies, she remembered someone telling her a long time ago. She felt her lips pull over her teeth in a tight smile and spoke, unsure of what she was actually saying. "He doesn't want anything to do with me," she said. That was true. She cocked her head. "He's not interested in a family." Again, truth. "And I'm fine on my own." More true than anything she'd said. Jason nodded. She smiled again, softer. She shook her head a little. "You know, everyone has been so helpful…my dad is sick but he's here and my brother is even talking about moving in with me to help out. I think he's tired of Texas, to be honest and wants a change, and I just have the best friends and coworkers…everyone is so supportive. I just want you to know I'm so happy you're here but I know you need to get back to Noah and Erin…"_

_"She's Tim's, isn't she?"_

_It just kind of sat there for a moment. The question. The heaviest question in the world, hanging between them, asked casually, with no regard for what it might do to her. She'd stopped midsentence, everything before the moment gone. I have no idea what I was saying, she thought. She looked up, very slowly, staring at Jason, with no emotion. He was staring back with the same blank expression. The lies began to pile on each other in her mind. What should she say? How could she spin this? She fussed a moment with the blanket around Eve, moving her around a bit. Another minute passed. One more ticked by, and still neither said anything. Playing chicken._

_All this is, is confirmation for him. She finally looked up, impassive again. "What makes you ask that?" she said. Delaying the inevitable._

_He barely shrugged, but then smiled, sarcastic. "Just the way she looks. The lies you're telling. I know you Lyla Garrity. I know you more than you know yourself and something is eating at you. You can't do this, you're not that good of a liar."_

_"I'm not lying," she whispered. She cleared her throat, lifting her head again, her voice quiet. Her heart pounded against her ribs. "What are you going to do?" She immediately spoke. "You're not to tell him. I don't care Jason, this is not his life anymore. He doesn't want it."_

_"Did you even give him a chance?" he scoffed. He shook his head, laughing again. "Because Lyla, he didn't have parents. You think he would just abandon his child? There's no way in hell he'd do something like that, so I know you didn't tell him and that in and of itself is lying."_

_You don't know what he said to me. He was horrible. She felt her heart clench in her chest. How did he even know? "How do you know?" she whispered. I need to be able to fix it if I can. Can't have anyone else just assuming or knowing. She looked at Eve, at the big eyes staring at her. Tears filled her eyes again. I can't help it. I can't fix it. She hiccupped. "It's her eyes, isn't it?"_

_He barely nodded. His voice was a whisper. "I know you both so well, Lyla. I've looked at both of you in the eye for so long, for almost my whole life. I know your eyes and I know his and those aren't yours. Besides…" he trailed off, whispering. "There's only one person in the world you wouldn't force into helping you with something like this."_

_I know. Anyone else, she would have demanded they be involved. Would have at least been more open about it, even if it were some unknown person. All but him. "I can't tell him," she hiccupped. Something seemed to release from between her shoulder blades. She let out a hard gasp. Oh God. It felt like…release. Just…she closed her eyes, tears falling down her cheeks. She wiped quickly at them. Tears were weakness. She wasn't weak. "Yes," she said, nodding quickly. Jumping over the place. "Yes, he's her father, but…" she looked up at Jason. He seemed horrified. "But I can't tell him."_

_Jason snorted, disgusted. He almost rolled his chair back. He shook his head again, speechless. She took the moment to gather her words, but he gathered his first. "And why the hell not Lyla? I mean honestly, why not? He doesn't have parents, Lyla. He loves his family more than anything in the world, so why wouldn't you tell him? No one says you have to get married and go live in Texas, but what the fuck?"_

_"Don't swear in front of the baby."_

_"I really don't care right now." He shook his head again. His eyes were on fire. Angry. He had every right to be angry, but he didn't have a right to judge. Jason didn't know anything about the two people who were in Dillon, Texas together a little over ten months ago. "I don't care what excuses you have Lyla, nothing can justify this."_

_She closed her eyes. Yes. There were things. "He chose himself over me and he should have." She dragged her fingertip over Eve's soft cheek. Her daughter turned into her, shifting. Quiet. Very quiet baby. She was faraway again. In a place where it was just the two of them. "And I chose myself over him. We made the best decisions we could have possibly made after one mistake."_

_"Your baby is not a mistake."_

_"She's the result of what happens when you take antibiotics for a sinus infection and forget backup," she said, matter-of-fact. It was easier to go into her scientific mind right now and not the emotional one. An eyebrow arched and Jason frowned, not understanding what that meant. She smirked. "The pill doesn't work when you're on antibiotics, Jason. I had a sinus infection from being in dry Texas air after the humid Midwest. We got drunk. Needless to say it wasn't like I was thinking clearly enough to remember. I got pregnant. That's the end of the story." _

_"Did you even tell him?" Jason whispered. Maybe thinking on the off chance that she told and it was the other party's fault in this. He shook his head immediately. "He wouldn't abandon you. You didn't tell him."_

_"Because needless to say the Tim Riggins you might know now Jason Street, is not the Tim Riggins I know." She had a different relationship. Always had. She smirked again. "He said horrible things to me."_

_"He's not in a good mind now."_

_"That's no excuse. I'm done with him and he's not going to be near my daughter."_

_"His daughter."_

_"He's not a good person," she spat. She drew up her back in the chair, sitting on the edge, holding Eve tight to her chest. She felt her throat constrict and steel fill her veins. She pursed her lips and spoke smooth and cool. "Jason this is my decision and I wish you would respect it. Please. I know what I'm doing."_

_He closed his eyes. He had to respect it. He knew her. He looked at Eve again and then sighed, his hands touching the wheels of his chair. "Fine Lyla. You clearly have thought about this. I just…" he bit his lower lip and then drew up his spine. All businesslike. "I want you to know that I refuse to lie to him directly. Omission…I'm not happy about it, but this is your life. I won't tell him. He asks me if he's the father? I'm telling him. I swear it."_

_Well that's fine, because he'll never ask. "Fine," she agreed._

_Jason nodded and then smiled hard, another smirk. "And if your daughter asks me for information on her father? I'm not lying to her either. I might not be forthcoming with all the details, but I'm not lying."_

_She's not going to ask because she won't need to ask. "She'll have my brother and my father and…" she smiled soft again. Maybe it was manipulating but it worked. "And she'll have you. I hope you will remain in her life and be a father figure for her. I want her to admire strong men. You're the strongest one I know."_

_He squinted. "There's another one out there that is stronger than me."_

_"He's weak." She spat out the words she'd kept bottled up. "He's pathetic. A drunk. A hateful, nasty, weak, and bitter man who can stay that way for all I care. For the rest of his life."_

_Jason looked horrified. She'd never spoken that way about him before. "Lyla."_

_She wasn't discussing this anymore. "The baby needs to be fed. Please give me some privacy." He stared at her for a moment before he turned, wheeling himself out. The door closed with a click and the second it did, she deflated against the chair, sobbing out. Eve began to cry, sensing the distress. "I'm sorry," she cried, holding her daughter closer, rocking with her. She shook, holding her close. I'm sorry you have such sad people as parents. I'll be strong. I swear it. She looked into Eve's eyes. And began to cry again. The genetic lottery couldn't do her any favors. She couldn't look just like me, she silently bemoaned. No, she had to look like him. _

_All Lyla could hope was that the only person who would guess it outright would be Jason. No one else would know. She'd ensure it. No going to Dillon. No bringing Eve, if she had to go to Dillon. And no one would ever be put in a situation for them to guess. The only person who knew was her father and…now Jason. Buddy wouldn't tell, he swore to her he wouldn't, when she'd gone to him crying and sobbing. Not even her mother knew the truth. She could do this. She held Eve close, the baby calming down. Lyla closed her eyes over the tears, releasing a breath through her nose, relaxing down into the chair. I can handle this. I have this. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes even tighter, almost willing it to be okay. Under control. No one else would know, especially not him._

* * *

><p>"Mommy what did Uncle Jason know about me when I was born?"<p>

Eve's question drew her from her memory to the present. She smiled warmly. "He knew you were the most perfect baby in the world. He surprised me with a visit and he got to hold you and he brought you a stuffed pig." She chuckled, trying to keep the situation light, even as Jason was shooting death glares at her. Clearly his memory was drawing up his anger at the situation. "And a Chicago Bears hat, if I remember correctly."

"I love the Bears," Eve chirped.

"Don't let your grandpa hear you say that," Bud called from the front door. He waved at Lyla. "Hey, I got the assistant manager to cover for me tonight. You order food?" He oofed when Eve ran at him, jumping up into his arms. He lifted her up and they did their uncle/niece secret handshake.

While Bud and Eve got acquainted about their past few hours, since Eve last saw him on one of his breaks, Lyla leaned forward, hissing at Jason. "Leave it alone," she vowed. She pointed her finger at him. "You told me you would tell her but not the whole truth. What you're doing is fine, but leave it. I've got this."

"No you don't Lyla." Jason reached into his pocket and removed his phone, turning it towards her so she could see a recent text he'd received. From about two hours ago. His voice softened. "Lyla he's starting to get frustrated. He's going to figure it out and when he does, you better have a plan in place because I told you…"

"I know!" She held her hands up to her ears, not wanting to hear it. You'll tell him if he asks. He had no reason to wonder. Buddy hadn't said anything. She covered her mouth with her hand and looked at the text. _I know you're in Chicago. Tell her we need to talk. I don't want to ask you to do this but that's just how it is now Six. Tell her. _

Jason sighed. "It's about your dad Lyla. He's not doing well."

I know, I know he's not. She wiped at her eyes, pushing up to her feet. The doorbell rang, Eve yelling that the pizza was here. Clearly her brother's interruption had distracted Eve from the task at hand, but she knew it wouldn't last long. That Christmas card was heartbreaking, wondering if he was dead. Wondering why Mommy cried and was sad. She took her wallet to the door and paid for the food, stepping back and carried it to the kitchen. "Here you go sweetie," she said, giving Eve a paper plate with a slice on it.

Eve looked up, smiling again. "Mommy can we go to Dillon for Christmas? I want to see Grandpa. Is he coming this year?"

Bud looked over at her, as did Jason, both of them waiting. She cleared her throat. "I…I don't know." She would have to think about it. She knew that Eve should get as much time with Buddy as was physically possible. She looked at her hands and then to her brother, who had Eve on his hip, looking at her with the same smirk Jason was wearing. No doubt he was finding her pain amusing as well. He wanted this just as much as Jason. She raked her fingers through her hair, sighing. "I don't know. I'll think about it."

Bud cleared his throat. "You know, I think it could be good. Hastings and Tinker are kind of having a bit of a reunion and I'm going to go. Maybe Eve could come with me. We can hang with Dad. Check on him and stuff. How bout' it sis?" He smirked. "Better than then going to the fig farm to see Mom and Kevin."

"Yeah, I don't like the food," Eve piped up. Although she did get a sad expression. "I miss Grandma."

Grandma's house would be better than Dillon, sad as that was for her to admit. She took a deep breath. This was all falling down. Like a house of cards. Bud didn't even know why it was falling, but Jason certainly did. He wheeled himself away, leaving her with an earnest Buddy Junior and her daughter looking to her for an answer. "I…" she trailed off, taking another breath. "I'll think about it. I promise, I will think about it. Bud, you can go and do your thing, you're a grown adult, but Eve I'm not giving you a yes or no. Okay? I'll think about it."

If I go, I have to make sure that there…it would require logistics. I'm not ready. I can keep this tamped down, she thought again. She reached for Eve, who was grinning, as though she'd said yes. "I can't wait," Eve said, her arms around her neck. Her eyes widened. "Are we going to fly on a plane?"

Helpless, Lyla shook her head. "Baby, I didn't say yes. I'm going to think about it. Here, get another piece of pizza and go pick a movie." She pushed her daughter to the living room, walking by Jason, who said nothing. She snatched her phone, marching upstairs and into her room, where she closed the door and went to the other side of her bed, away from all the vents and doors and windows. Away from the eavesdropping. She went to her text messages and pulled up the phone number she wanted, hitting call.

It rang a few times and then a raspy voice answered, like he'd just woken up. Probably had. She glanced at the clock, rolling her eyes. It was five. Of course he was probably passed out by now. "What?" he snapped.

"Good evening."

The raspy voice suddenly hitched, the breathing quiet. "Oh. You." Yeah. Me. That was the sum of their relationship now. He sighed. His voice seemed clearer. "I've been trying to talk to you. Thought I'd have to come to Chicago."

"We both know you'd die before you did something like that," she murmured.

He chuckled, but it wasn't a friendly laugh. It was a bark. "Now, now Garrity. I thought the past was in the past."

I'm not going to have this fight again. He sounded teasing. Sarcastic. Mean. She closed her eyes. "What do you want? Why are you calling me?"

"I'm calling because your dad is not doing good. I went over to check on him. He'd broken his ankle, went to the hospital, and never told anyone. He was lucid enough the doctor didn't call you or Junior."

Oh my God. She pressed her fingers to her forehead, closing her eyes hard. Why didn't anyone else call her? "Why didn't he call me?" she whispered. He knew he had to call her or Bud. It was a pointless question though. Buddy refused to let her move him from Dillon. All he wanted was his freedom. He wasn't going to let anything get in the way of that, even if it meant hiding things from her and her brother. She rubbed at her face. "Forget it."

He sighed hard, his voice quiet. "You should come down here. It's Christmas. He wants you here. I think he needs you. See for yourself and all." I know, she thought. I have to see him. She closed her eyes tight, tears trickling out. This was so difficult. He cleared his throat. "How's your kid? He asks about her a lot."

My kid. Her stomach flipped. "Um…she's fine. She asks about him, I'll have her call him later tonight to talk."

"Sounds good." He waited a second. "She's like six now, right?"

Why did he want to talk? He never wanted to talk. "She's six," she breathed. Where was this conversation going? He'd never questioned it before in the past. She tried not to let the suspicions get to her. Especially in light of her recent conversations and Eve's interest and pain. I have to work this out. She hiccupped, holding back the tears. "I think…I think we might be coming down to Texas for Christmas."

"You know I've never met her."

"No, you haven't." The anger at him slipped out from between her lips. "I don't allow my daughter around felons and drunks." Her fingertips pressed to her mouth, shocked at the bitterness. The meanness.

A sharp intake of breath was the only thing she could sense was different in him on the other end of the phone. He slowly released it. He was probably trying to calm himself down. "I deserved that," he breathed, surprising her.

"No," she said, shaking her head. God. Where was this conversation even going? "No, I'm so sorry. I just…I am so sorry Tim, I didn't mean that at all…there's no excuse, I mean…we're not friends anymore, but I didn't mean that at all."

"Fine. Apology accepted." He waited another second, quiet. "Let me know when you're in town." So he could hide, she thought. It was their silent agreement throughout the years. It helped her with Eve, even though he didn't know that reason for it. "Good night Lyla."

She nodded quickly. "Thank you for your help with my dad. I'll be sure you're compensated."

He snapped, now very pissed off. "I'm not going to say anything to that. Good night." He hung up without another word. She knew he'd react that way. Maybe that's why she said it. To end the conversation quickly. She pressed the phone into her forehead, sniffling. Feeling sorry for herself never did her any good and she wasn't good at it. She dragged her hands over her face and leaned against the bed, closing her eyes.

Something had to give eventually. He was going to find out and all she was doing was fighting a losing battle against the inevitable. Eve wanted to know. Jason was talking more freely. Bud would soon start talking. And then there was her dad. "Daddy," she murmured, closing her eyes again. She had to see him. To cope with what was happening with him. To be the grown-up daughter in this situation and not ignore him, even if it meant dealing with a man she never wanted to see again. That just wasn't the way the world worked. She turned her head as her door opened. "Hey Eve," she called.

"Mommy are you sad again?" her daughter whispered, holding onto the door frame and not coming into the room.

Her heart sank to her stomach. That poor Christmas card. She shook her head, trying to smile. She wiped at her eyes. "No Evie, I'm not sad. Come here." She waited for Eve to crawl into her lap and kissed her cheek. She took a deep breath. Just say it Lyla. "I've been keeping things from you and I'm not going to do that, okay? I promise. No more secrets between us."

"Okay," Eve said. She looked up, her eyes narrowed and shrewd. "Can I play hockey again?"

Lyla chuckled, shaking her head. "No, you're still on the naughty list for what you said to be the other day, okay? You can play hockey next week and we'll make sure that your coach knows before we go to Texas."

"We're going to Texas!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

She nodded. Yeah. It was done. "Yes," she breathed, looking away as Eve jumped up and ran downstairs, yelling for her uncle that they were going to Texas. Lyla sighed, looking at a picture hanging on her wall of the four of them, her dad, brother, and daughter. They were standing outside of the Alamo. She held her head in her hand. "We're going to Texas." So I better get started on that explanation.


	4. To Go Back

**A/N: ** This kind of is a different version of 'Seeking Shelter.' I've actually had this fic in the works for longer, which is probably why I feel more comfortable writing/finishing it than I do the other one. I'll probably return to that fic, just to tie the loose ends, but this one is a bit different. Each chapter will unravel the story bit by bit. :) Enjoy and thanks for the reviews, I do appreciate them.

* * *

><p><em><strong>4. To Go Back<strong>_

"Go Evie! Whoo!"

"Mom, you don't need to scream like that," she chuckled, reaching for her bottle of water at the base of her feet. She leaned over her knees, waving at Eve as the little girl skated easily around the goal net, waving her stick up in celebration at getting a goal. It was her first of the season. She was the leading scorer, so Lyla figured she was just getting used to being back on ice again.

It killed her to keep up the punishment from last week, but she had to do it. Otherwise she'd be a pushover and Eve would know that none of her punishments would stick. Since those couple of days, she'd been quiet on the whole 'dad' thing. Thank God. It gave Lyla time to plan. Jason would probably have called it 'manipulate.' Maybe it was the same thing, she wasn't sure. She just knew she had to have her story. Which was the truth. Which hurt. It hurt a lot. She tossed her bangs out of her eyes, screwing the cap tight on her bottle. "I'm going to get some better pictures," Bud said, getting up from his seat beside her.

Pamela scowled at him, swatting at his hand as he slid by her on the bleachers. "You need to come visit more, I'm tired of coming out here and you try to sneak away from me, I know that's what you're doing."

"Yeah whatever," Bud said, but he smiled. He didn't avoid their mother so much as plan his story. It was a family trait, Lyla thought, watching him get down to the side of the hockey rink, holding up his camera. He liked photography. Should have probably majored in that than generic 'business.'

Her mother sighed. "I don't know what to do with him. He's aimless."

The only one in the family who was aimless was Tabby, Lyla thought. Her sister was living in Peru right now. After a stint in Mexico. No one knew what she did. Could be a spy for all she knew. "He's fine Mom, leave him alone."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?" She clapped when Eve's team got another goal. They were positively destroying the other team. Poor kids. She sighed. "Mom I'm fine." I know what this is about.

"When am I going to get a son-in-law to go with my grandchild? Or another grandchild, for that matter, hmm? What about this Carter? I saw your phone. Who is he?" Pamela giggled, nudging her shoulder. "Is he your boyfriend? Do you finally have someone other than Eve's mysteriously absent father?"

Lyla often wondered if her mother knew of Eve's true parentage. She pursed her lips. "She's fine, Mom. And Carter is a friend." Carter was, if she was a teenager, a booty call. A hookup. Friends with benefits, in every sense of the word. He did not want a family. He liked sex, he liked being a playboy, and he was not interested in a ready-set-family situation. Just like she was not ready to bring any man into her daughter's life, but she was a woman and she liked sex too. They met in residency and used each other for personal need. It worked. It was fine. She wouldn't have that conversation with her mother if someone held a gun to her head though. She kept her eyes on the hockey rink. "Eve, Bud, and I are going to Dillon next weekend. For Christmas."

"Oh?"

"Yes, oh."

Pamela pursed her lips tighter. "You're not coming to California? Kevin and I were looking forward to it. We had a menu planned and events and everything." She sniffed. "You could have told me sooner."

You surprised me in Chicago, she thought with an eyeroll. "Mom, leave it alone. We're going to see what's with Dad."

"Oh he's probably faking. I never believed his heart attack was real."

Jesus, Mom. She raked her fingers over her ponytail, her arm crossing over her chest. I'm not deigning that with a response. She followed Eve on the ice, struck by how athletic she was, even as a kid. It was her genetics, she thought, smiling a little. It had been awhile since she'd done anything athletic beyond lifting patients from gurneys onto beds, but it made her want to get out and ice skate or run or something. She released a long sigh. "Mom, he's sick," she murmured. She shook her head a little. I don't want to talk about it.

"Says who? Your father? Tim Riggins?" She snorted. "Yeah, I know about that. Your father can't even pay a real nurse or someone to take care of him, he lets the town drunk and your ex-boyfriend do it."

He helps. It works. Buddy trusts him. That's what matters. Even if it killed her. "He's fine Mom."

"He hurt you, baby. I will never like that man as long as I live. I don't care if he was the love of your life or whatever you thought as a girl. Because that's what you were, a girl."

He wasn't the love of my life. That's the little girl skating on the ice right now. She applauded at another goal. "Go Evie!" She tossed her bangs from her eyes again. Mom, stop this conversation. "It's done Mom. Leave it alone."

"I'm sorry but I'm on a roll."

"Well get off it," she snapped, pushing to her feet. She ignored her mother's protests, leaving her sitting there in surprise, going to join her brother at the rink's edge. She rolled her eyes at his chuckle. "Shut up."

"Mom talking to you about getting a husband?"

"Yes."

Bud lifted his camera up, taking another picture of Eve as she skated by them, entirely focused on the task at hand. Winning. He lowered the camera, glancing at their mother and murmuring. "I still can't believe she hasn't figured it out."

And she won't. Lyla barely glanced at her mother, who was now texting someone. She shrugged, her arms wrapping tight around her chest. "Yeah, well, only a few people even can figure it out. It wasn't like I was in Dillon publicly. I was there for a few days."

"Weeks, Lyla. Long enough to get knocked up."

That's a lovely way of putting it even if it was true. "Bud, seriously, shut up. Leave it alone." She tucked her hair behind her ear, her voice soft. "What am I supposed to say? It wasn't supposed to be like this, I mean…I got myself into a real mess, didn't I?" She glanced at him. Bud shrugged, his expression sad. Quiet. She frowned, shaking her head and whispering. "What am I supposed to do with this? It wasn't supposed to be this way."

He shrugged, no sympathy. "Should have realized that."

She shook her head. Her brother had it figured out about a month after he'd moved in to help her with Eve. She was a few months old and he just one day asked her who Eve's dad was, because he wanted to know, just…because. He was living there. Wanted to make sure, in case the guy stopped by. She'd spilled the truth. It felt good having someone who was there know. Bud didn't give her grief like Jason. Wouldn't. He was her brother. "I'm not explaining it," she murmured. She jumped up and down a little, plastering a smile on her face as Eve skated off the ice from their little box. The game was over. "So good baby! Oh, you were awesome! I'm so happy you won."

"We destroyed them!" Eve exclaimed, taking off her helmet and passing it over, along with her hockey stick so she could give her a hug. She grinned, her eyes wild. "I won!"

I have to teach you about teamwork. "You mean, your team won," she corrected.

"I did it. I had four goals."

"Yes, you did, but your team won."

"No they didn't!"

We'll discuss this later. She sighed, nudging her to the locker room. "Go change, we'll get you cleaned up at home, okay? Grandma is here, we're going to dinner. Then Mommy has to go to work."

"Ew."

Yeah, ew, seriously. She kissed Eve's cheek, nudging her to the locker room again. This time it took, Eve trotting off in her skates. She shook her head. They were getting small again, she could see Eve bouncing a little. Could have picked a cheaper sport, but nope. She turned to her brother once again. "I'm going to work tonight, so I need you to watch her in the morning and make sure she's okay through the day." She arched an eyebrow. "I don't need to tell you to please keep talk of her father at a minimum until I can explain more to her."

"Fine. But at least you're going to explain."

There wasn't much to explain. Your father and I dated. We broke up. Then we what? Had a sleepover? Then I went back to school, found out I was pregnant, went back to tell him, and he completely lost his freaking mind so we've only spoken about ten times in the last seven years, and that was the story. He didn't get to know he had a daughter because he decided to destroy his life and she wasn't interested in having him destroy hers too. That's the story. "I'm getting Eve," she said, going down the hallway to the locker room.

Several hours later, she was at the hospital, writing up charts, when her part-time boyfriend wandered into the doctor's lounge. Winston Carter went by his last name, as he hated his first and its nickname 'Win.' It suited him, as he was purely aristocratic, with a straight aquiline nose, blond hair, and bright blue eyes. He looked like he was one ascot and smoking jacket away from being a Newport WASP cliché. She barely glanced up. "Hello."

He flopped into the chair in front of her. "I'm bored."

"Don't you dare say that."

"I want a bloody trauma right now."

She looked up from the file, clicking her pen and smiled. "Is that like, you want the bodily fluid bloody trauma or you want a freaking trauma or something? That British accent of yours is hard to tell sometimes."

He grinned, showing off his crooked bottom two teeth which she always found to be quite charming. He leaned on the table, wiggling his eyebrows. "We could find an empty room. It's one in the morning."

She brushed her nose to his, giggling. "That'd be fun, but not right now."

"Find a man to take you from me?"

"A girl."

"Ooh, do tell."

She arched an eyebrow, smirking. Idiot. "My daughter."

Carter's smile fell. He set his lips in a line. "Oh. That's too bad."

That was his attitude. She knew it and it still pissed her off when he just blew off any mention of her daughter. She leaned on the table, shaking her head slightly, sizing him up and narrowing her eyes. "You know Carter one of these days you're going to get that bug and I'm not going to be around to help you with it."

He shook his head adamantly. "I'm not interested love. Told you time and again."

"And I'm not interested in what you find interesting," she replied. They were at an impasse. She picked up her pen again, marking off which charts she'd completed and which ones she still had yet to do, returning her attention to her laptop, which contained all the medical records information. "Get to your trauma room, I've got work to do."

"Dr. Lyla Garrity you simply astound me sometimes. What are you doing for Christmas?" He scowled, rocking his chair back on its two legs and groaned. "I have to go back to London. Mummy Dearest is demanding all the children make an appearance."

"Or she'll cut you off?"

"Don't joke, she might." He slammed the chair back to all four legs, grinning at her again. "You could come."

"Oh darn, I have that pesky child of mine." She closed the lid of the laptop. I'm clearly not getting any work done. She smirked again. Carter was fun. It was part of the reason why she enjoyed his company. It allowed her to pretend she was a normal single adult woman. Which she hadn't been in six years. She propped her head on her hand, sighing. Reality crept back into the conversation. "I'm going to Texas. To be with my dad."

Carter immediately softened, moving closer to her. "How is his physical therapy?" Carter was emergency medicine, same as her, but he also had a great interest in treatment for strokes, specifically studies on how fast you had to attend to a stroke patient to prevent permanent brain damage. He'd been greatly interested in her father's case. Lyla preferred spines. They were less stressful.

Physical therapy wasn't the issue. "It's fine, he's just…I think he's fine. I want to be sure." She twirled the pen around, looking at it. It was mesmerizing, the top of it just spinning around. Her voice trailed off, slightly dreamy. Wandering. "My daughter wants to know who her father is and I have to tell her. I'm thinking of telling him…it's going to be an interesting Christmas." She waited a second. Carter said nothing, but leaned forward more, still at attention. She arched an eyebrow, whispering. "I've never told him or her."

He frowned, a lock of dark blond hair falling in his eyes. He blew it out of the way, reaching for her hand. "Do you need anything?"

"No, but thank you." She wasn't sure what he meant by that. Probably just being nice. She shrugged, whispering. "He was an ex-boyfriend." I don't know why I'm telling him this. Maybe it was time to tell someone. Carter didn't know Tim. Didn't know anyone and he didn't even know Eve. It was…it felt like something was lifting itself from between her shoulder blades, much like it had when she'd admitted it to Jason. "He was an ex-boyfriend and…we left on mutual terms. I was going back to school and he was staying in Dillon, my hometown. He wasn't going to leave, I mean, I'd tried to get him to stay in college. Become something of himself, because I know he could, but…" she trailed off, sighing. It wasn't worth getting into that. "But he didn't. So he stayed. Last thing I heard he was going to jail and…well I saw him a few years after that, when I went to check on my dad after his first heart attack. I was sad and upset and Daddy was so sick and not waking up from the surgery and I just…" she closed her eyes. It was a very sad night. She shook her head again. "I don't know if he wanted to, but…ex-girlfriend is throwing herself at you, so…anyways."

He smirked, trying to make light of the situation, his voice soft. "I know I would if you were throwing yourself at me."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. He was a friend, after all. She looked at her hands again, twisting her ring around on her finger. "So anyways…got pregnant. Went to tell him, about…six weeks after I found out." She didn't feel like telling him what happened. It was just…it wouldn't make sense to him. You had to know Tim to understand. She sighed, whispering. "This man…he was always…hard, you know? Just…things were hard with him. Exhausting, a lot of times, but he always made me laugh. Made me want to tear my hair out, but I loved him." She shrugged. "I know he changed, but…needless to say I didn't get around to tell him about Eve."

"Did he hurt you?" Carter asked.

"Not physically. I don't think he's capable of doing that to a woman. But he's pretty sharp with his tongue," she whispered. She smirked again, looking out the window. It was dark out, so she couldn't see anything, but…she could at least see a bit of the Chicago skyline from Northwestern medical school's hospital downtown. "And I walked out of there with gashes."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well…here we are. I've spoken with him a handful of times. Usually let my brother deal with discussing him." Lyla heaved a sigh, leaning forward to kiss Carter's cheek. I'm done now. Thanks. This felt kind of nice. "Thank you for listening. I'm going back out there now. Done with my break. I'll see you out there." She stood up, leaving him sitting there, a little stewed. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her scrub pants. She had a lab coat, but hated wearing it, choosing to wear her scrubs with a long sleeved shirt in the winter. She had multiple pins, lanyards, and cards hanging from all parts of her person. She was going to take her boards within the next year. Part of her loved emergency medicine, which she had the bulk of her time and clinicals in, but she also spent time and did her residency with pediatric rehabilitation medicine. She was going to get board certified in both, but then she knew she'd have to make an official decision. "Good morning Alicia," she said, leaning on the desk at the nurse's station, smiling at the older nurse chief. "What's up?"

"The sun still isn't yet, so I'm not sure it's a good morning." Alicia had worked night shift for as long as Lyla had been at Northwestern. Lyla often wondered if she was a vampire. She tapped the computer. "Here you go Dr. Garrity. Snap to, just because it's four in the morning doesn't mean there isn't a kid with some ailment or another. Room five."

Room five, alright. She checked the computer, seeing a six-month old presenting signs of a rather nasty chest cold. Poor baby, she thought, reviewing the nurse's notations and the vital signs. She turned around, to go handle it, when her phone rang. What, she thought, rolling her eyes. She answered it. "Hello?"

"Lyla!"

Her eyes widened. "Daddy?"

"Well of course it is baby, who else would it be? I heard you were worried about me. Just wanted to let you know you've got no cause for concern baby, I'm perfectly alright. Tim's taking good care of me." There it was. She closed her eyes. Great. Buddy sighed, his voice quiet. "Lyla, I've been thinking, and I think it's time."

She didn't have to ask about what 'time' it was. The question was, how did he know that this topic was the biggest thing going on right now? She squinted. "Have you talked to Bud recently?"

"Just got off the phone with him." Of course. Bud told their dad, now Buddy thought he should get involved. He coughed. "I'm fine Lyla. You don't need to come to Texas if you don't want to. Just send Bud down with Evie."

And have you slip? Or Bud? Have Tim take one look at Evie and lose his shit? She still couldn't believe he didn't have an inkling that he was her father. There were pictures all over Buddy's house. He had to have thought about it at least once. Maybe he just blew it off because she hadn't told him. The irony if that were why. Oh the irony of this entire situation, she thought, scrubbing her hand over her face. "We'll fly down together," she said. She cleared her throat. "I'll make arrangements." She closed her eyes tight. It was still very hard for her to grapple with the idea of her father in any sort of precarious or fragile state. "Daddy are you okay? Please tell me the truth, honestly."

Buddy waited a second before chuckling. "Just lost my balance is all."

"It's those damn back steps." He'd moved into a house, near Tim. Hell, Tim had pretty much built the house for him. She wasn't knocking the craftsmanship or construction, but…those damn back steps. They were too rickety. After his first heart surgery Buddy had been slow to bounce back. He'd come back strong after the second and then he'd had his first ministroke and since then he'd had a bit of a limp in his left leg, throwing his balance off a bit.

"It's not the steps Lyla." He changed the subject. "So when am I going to see my baby girl? When?"

She glanced at a calendar on the wall. Arbitrarily she chose a date. "Next week. Wednesday." That gave her about ten days to get her shit together. Buy tickets. Ugh.

"Is this going to be a big Christmas?" What did he mean by that? Buddy almost read her mind, his voice dropping. "He's a good man, I don't know why you can't just get along. I don't like this Lyla. I don't like it at all." He began to get agitated. "I don't want my granddaughter to never know her father. If you don't tell him, I might."

And have him hate you just like he hates me? "This is my decision. You know what he was like." This is in his best interest. It's not so much in mine, but he made his choice. She dropped her voice again, whispering. "Daddy I'm working right now. Why don't you go to bed?"

"We've got a big game on Friday."

"That's good. Why don't you look at some game film?" That calmed him down. She glanced at the clock. It was almost four in the morning here. She sighed. "Daddy I have to go back to work. I love you."

"See you soon baby."

She hung up, pressing the phone into her forehead for a moment. Come on Garrity, she thought, you can do this. Just…freaking ask for help. She waited another moment before she dialed the phone number, closing her eyes tight. It rang a few times before he answered, his voice soft and sleepy. "Yeah?"

I can't believe you answered the phone. "Um…sorry…sorry to call you this early in the morning."

"What do you want?" He didn't sound angry. That was a good sign. He let out a long sigh and a bit of a groan. She could imagine him getting up out of bed, probably still in the clothes he'd worn the night before. He tended to pass out anywhere, so maybe he wasn't even in bed. Or maybe he wasn't in his bed. Shit, she thought, closing her eyes again. That's none of your business. "What Lyla? You called me."

"You didn't call me Garrity." That slipped out before she realized what she was even saying. She'd spoken to him more times in the last week than she had in seven years. Geez.

He waited a second before chuckling, his voice a whisper. "That's what I called you when we were friends. We're not friends anymore."

No. I don't suppose we are. "Your doing."

"Your doing." He sighed. "What do you want?"

Yeah. What did she want? Who the hell knew any more. "I wanted to ask you if you could just…my dad's awake. Could you just check on him maybe tomorrow morning?"

"Can check on him now."

"Yeah…don't go out of your way."

"Naw, I'll go." He cleared his throat and chuckled. "Garrity he's not as fragile as you think. I think he just wants you around. He misses you. Misses the kid. What's her name? Eve?"

Maybe that was true. Buddy grew attached to his family. Had a strange way of showing his love and attachment, but he tried. She'd come to terms with that a long time ago, during her time at Vanderbilt, away from him for so long. She chuckled. "Yeah, well…I don't need you to tell me about my relationship with my father. I appreciate you checking on him. Thank you."

"You coming for Christmas?"

She hitched her breath, holding it for a second. "Yes," she whispered. She snorted. "You can disappear for a couple of weeks starting Wednesday next week."

"Don't think I want to do that, but okay."

Well then okay. She raked her fingers through her hair. "Just check on my dad. Thank you. I've got to go back to work."

"Night Doc."

She hung up the phone, her lip quirking upward. Doc. That was a new one. It wasn't Garrity, but at least it was something. She hit her head back against the wall. Hell. She wasn't sure if she wanted there to be something or not. She closed her eyes tight. If Tim was changing his mind about what he'd done and said, if he wanted to at least be cordial with her, to be…friends? If that's what he wanted…she laughed, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. The joke was going to be on him. There was no way he would want to be friends with her in a few weeks.


	5. Turbulence

_**5. Turbulence**_

"So where are we going to go when we get to Texas?"

I can't sleep for five seconds, can I, Bud wondered, opening his eyes. He leaned against his plane seat, stuck in between his sister, who had barely spoken to him since they got to the airport. Meanwhile, he'd been left to entertain his niece, who he normally had no problem with, but right now she was trying his patience. "We're going to go to Grandpa's," he said, moving his arm when Lyla jabbed him with her elbow. He jabbed her right back. She said nothing. He turned to look down at his niece.

It freaked him out how much like Riggins she looked. Maybe because he knew. He still couldn't believe no one had figured it out. It took him a couple of months. Dad had his first official ministroke. He'd been in the hospital and had kind of slipped about Lyla's secrets. Someone should write a book on that, he thought, glancing at his sister. He jabbed her again and she turned and hit him with her iPad. "Stop it," she growled.

"You stop it."

She gave him a look like 'seriously?' What, just because we're not kids doesn't mean we're not siblings. He glanced at Eve again. She was fiddling with her iPad. He sighed, adjusting her blanket around her shoulders. "You scared of the plane?" he asked.

"No," she lied, jumping a bit at some turbulence.

He smiled. "It's just the air. It's okay."

Eve flicked off her seatbelt, climbing over the armrest and into his lap. She held onto one of her books, setting it in his lap. "Will you read to me?"

"Not right now, we're going to be quiet. Lots of people are sleeping." Served them right for getting a morning flight. Eve was in her pajamas. They had a butt-crack of dawn flight, which was delayed for a couple of hours at O'Hare. Then they had a few hour layover in Dallas coming up. That was going to be fun, with a six-year old on an upset sleep schedule. He brought up a new movie on her iPad. "Why don't we watch this, huh?"

"Can I see you play football in Texas?"

"Maybe." He didn't play much anymore. He liked it fine, it...helped, he supposed, when he was a kid. Given that his mother forced him to go back to Texas and Buddy would only have him in football and no other sport. He liked soccer still. "We'll see," he said. His ankle still bothered him from time to time when he played football, even just a fun pickup game with friends. He poked the iPad. "Watch your movie."

She shook her head, giggling and resting her chin on his shoulder, peering up at him. "No." Her hair was falling out of its topknot. He reached over and adjusted it. She patted it to make sure it was still in place, making a face at him. She sighed. "Uncle Bud are you like my daddy, since I don't got one?"

Hell. He never knew what to do with those questions. We're on a plane for God's sakes, he thought, sighing. He shook his head, but he wasn't sure if it was 'yes' or 'no.' Just...maybe. Both? Sure. "I help your mom. That's what brothers do." It's what brothers with no idea what to do with their life did. He'd graduated college with a degree in 'business' and didn't want to stay in Texas. Didn't want to go to Florida, where Hastings wandered down to for graduate school. Didn't want to go back to California so he followed his sister to Chicago. When she got pregnant it seemed like a great excuse to move in with her, help with the baby. Maybe figure his life out at the same time. Six years later and he was still there. He didn't think Lyla wanted him to go anytime soon so he wouldn't say anything. "You have a daddy," he said. He shrugged. "He just isn't here right now."

"Will we see him?"

"Maybe, but you have to let your mom talk to him first."

Lyla shifted in her seat. She could hear every single word, he knew it, but he didn't care. What was she going to do to him? Lyla had made her bed. Buddy called it right in the hospital, when he'd figured it out. 'Lyla and her secrets.' He sighed. It wasn't like he cared. Let Lyla have her secrets, just don't let them mess up the kid's life, which maybe as a baby, had been an important thing, but right now...he sighed again. What the hell would RIggins do when he found out? Lyla didn't know it, but Tim knew who Eve was. Didn't know his relation to her, but he had met her. Lyla didn't know, Eve didn't know, and hell, Bud certainly wasn't going to tell anyone.

* * *

><p><em>"Dad? You awake?"<em>

_Buddy shifted in the hospital bed, a monitor beeping a little faster. What the hell, he wondered, looking up at it. He swallowed hard, moving back from the bed a bit, freaked out by what he might have done. His father's eyes flickered a bit. Buddy had kind of terrified him as a kid. Then he'd been nothing. And then suddenly he kind of was like the dad he'd always wanted growing up. Now he wasn't sure what was going on, but Buddy didn't…he didn't want to go into this so fast. He hadn't had him for long. Now he had to start taking care of him or something. It didn't seem very fair._

_He reached over, lightly touching his father's forearm, which was resting over the thin hospital blanket. Where the hell was Lyla? She was the one in medical school or something. She should be around. "Dad," he whispered again, leaning closer. "You awake?"_

_It took a second and Buddy opened his eyes. He looked around the room. Bud was struck by how pale he looked. How thin in his face. His eyes were dull. He blinked a few times and struggled with his words. The doctor warned them that might happen. Bud shifted, leaning closer to hear. "Where's your sister?" Buddy slurred. The right side of his mouth didn't really open. His eye was kind of drooping. The doctor told them about that too. It would go back to normal eventually, with therapy._

_"Um…" What did he say? He wasn't sure what to do. Damnit Lyla, hurry up with whatever you're doing. Get in here, I suck at this stuff. He took a deep breath. "Um…she's with the baby."_

_"Baby?" Buddy seemed confused, turning to look at him. He didn't seem to see him. It was an odd feeling. Your dad not really knowing who you were. He chuckled, his hand swiping out at him. "Buddy Junior, what are you doing here? Where's your sister?"_

_Short-term memory loss. Something they also said. He had no clue what was going on right now. I should really go back to California. Nothing ever happens there, he thought, looking at the door, willing Lyla to come to it. He looked to his father again. "Um, I think she's with the baby. With Eve."_

_"Eve." A light went off in Buddy's eyes. Thank God. You at least know your granddaughter. "Eve! Oh little Eve. That's a good one there. Good genes. Good blood."_

_Yes, he thought, smiling a little. "Garrity blood, tough, right?" he said. Football. Talk about football. That'll get him happy. His eyebrows lifted. "She should be a good football player. Hopefully she doesn't break her leg right before State." He chuckled, but idly reached down to touch at his ankle, which he swore still ached sometimes. Lyla told him it was phantom pain. Know-it-all. Of course she had an answer. _

_His dad nodded, closing his eyes and murmuring, turning his head a little on the thin pillow. Bud stood, adjusting it behind Buddy's head. "Good football genes, those Riggins boys." _

_Riggins? He paused. It was the memory thing, probably. Tim Riggins was the one who called 911, when he'd had the stroke. He was at the bar and Tim was working. Found him in his office. Called 911. Bud had to find him, thank him or something. He was always kind of intimidated by Riggins. Especially lately, since Lyla had said something about how she wanted fair warning whenever Tim was around. "Not Riggins," he said softly. "Garrity. Me. It's Buddy Junior. Bud?"_

_"Hmm….Bud. Yes." Buddy opened his eyes again, murmuring. "She's got both. Good genes." He sighed. "Eve. Good genes that one. Should talk to Tim about plays next week." He snorted in his sleep, his voice fading. "Silly Lyla, with her secrets."_

_Silly Lyla with her secrets. He frowned a little more. That was odd. He looked up as the door opened. "Tim," he said, blurting it out. He stepped back from the bed. Riggins stood in the doorway, looking awkward. He was holding a football. "Hey. What are you doing here?"_

_"Hey Junior." Tim was the only one who could get away calling him that. Mostly because he was too terrified to correct him. He lifted the football. "From the bar. Get well present."_

_"Oh, yeah, um, put it here." He made some room on the counter, stepping back immediately. He wasn't sure what to do. I'm just in the way, he thought, moving to the door. What the hell, Lyla was going to freak the fuck out when she came in here and he didn't warn her. He jerked his thumb back. "Ah…I gotta' make a call."_

_Tim chuckled, but it wasn't really a nice laugh. He stepped away from Buddy's bed. "I should get going if he's sleeping. Besides, we wouldn't want your sister to know I was around, would we?" He pulled the door open, narrowing his eyes and frowning. "How's her baby?"_

_Her baby? "Oh, Eve." He forgot his sister had a kid sometimes. He smiled wide, nodding. Eve was cute, yeah. "She's around somewhere. Lyla's got the boob, you know."_

_A tight smile pulled on Tim's lips. "Oh, yeah, I know." He cocked his head, frowning a bit. "Where's the dad?"_

_"Not interested. Lyla's on her own. She's fine with it."_

_"I see."_

_"I'll tell her you were around." Warn her. _

_Tim nodded, walking backwards. He lifted his hand in a silent wave. "See you around Little Garrity. Your dad's gonna' be fine. He's too stubborn to get sick." _

_Yeah. That's what I thought. He waved, watching Riggins walk away. His forehead wrinkled. What was his sister playing at? He glanced at his phone. She'd texted him. She'd be over soon. That was like fifteen minutes ago. Must not have heard it. He sent a text to Hastings, who was at Texas Tech. Get me the fuck out of here, my family is crazy. _

_Yeah but your sister is hot, was the response he received. Fucker, he texted back. He got another one within a second, glancing at it. Sorry about your dad, you need a place to crash, let me know. Thanks, he thought, shoving his phone in his pocket and turning, just in time to see Lyla walking towards him, holding the baby carrier. "Take your niece," she said, by way of greeting._

_He took the carrier, peering in to smile at his niece, who was waving her little fists and cooing, perfectly content. "Must be nice to be a baby," he sighed wistfully. Everyone took care of you, you just slept, ate, pooped, and started the cycle over again. He made a face at her, but she didn't do anything, just gave him a quizzical look. He made another face and she kind of smiled. "She's smiling at me," he said, grinning. She was a cute kid._

_"She's too little to smile, it's probably gas."_

_"You're a real nice person Lyla, truly."_

_"Shut up, what's going on with Dad?" she asked, not going into the room just yet. She looked down the hallway, frowning. She pointed. "Did I just see who I thought I saw leaving?"_

_"Yes." He thought it was just an answer, but then he saw Lyla's face. Like she'd seen a ghost. He blinked. What the hell? He shook his head slightly, his voice quieting, sensing this was a big issue, but he didn't know why. He knew they weren't close anymore, but…geez. "He's going back to work or something. Dropped off a present for Dad from the team."_

_"Oh. Good, that's good." She adjusted her ponytail and tucked her hair behind her ear. Nervous tics. He frowned deeper. She lifted her eyes up, scowling. "It's fine, it was just…we're not close anymore, it'd be awkward. Can you watch her while I deal with dad and the doctors for a bit?"_

_"Yeah, sure." He carried Eve away, looking over his shoulder as Lyla disappeared into the room. He picked up the baby bag and left, going downstairs, to get away from the creepy, stuffy atmosphere on the floor his dad was on. He was never getting old if that was what he had to look forward to one day. He took a seat on a bench, setting Eve beside him. He reached in and made another face. "You want to play football?" he asked. He reached into her bag and removed a stuffed football, passing it to her. He chuckled. "I played soccer. Til' I got here. Dad wouldn't have it any other way. Said it would build character."_

_Maybe it did. He'd played until he graduated, from regular Dillon, and went to college. Just a couple of years, it wasn't for him. He'd jumped at the chance to help out Lyla with the baby. Chicago was a cool city. He always felt like he was closer with Tabby, but in his mind she'd gone off the deep-end when it was just her and his mom and stepdad. He and Lyla were more like their dad. He let go of the football, Eve holding it in her hands, gumming the top of it. "You're cute," he said._

_"Talking to babies Little Garrity?"_

_Oh shit. He looked up. Tim was standing over him, hands on his hips. He had his sunglasses pushed upon his head. He smiled quickly. "Sorry, forgot to give you guys the card the team had too." He flicked an envelope towards him and then very slowly the other man's eyes landed on the baby. He narrowed them. "That your sister's kid?"_

_"Um…yeah."_

_"What's her name? Eve?" Tim knelt, offering his fingers to Eve, who dropped the football and reached for him. She made a squeal, reaching again. His eyes widened a bit as Eve basically, all four months of her, launched herself at Tim. He smiled; it seemed awkward, like he hadn't smiled in a long time. "Cute kid."_

_"Yeah she's friendly." _

_Tim lifted Eve up, holding her against him, his arms wrapped around her so she was kind of sitting on his forearm. Her little hands reached for his face and she smiled, smacking his cheeks. She seemed to frown, looking down at her small palms. Another smile this time, wider, appeared on Tim's face. "Guess she doesn't like the beard," he murmured._

_Eve reached again, rubbing at his beard and then leaned against him, almost cooing. Bud laughed. "You sure have a way with women Riggins. Even babies."_

_"Yeah." Tim held her for a few more minutes. Eve decided to pull at the collar of his shirt and reach for his hand. She made baby sounds and coos, clearly content. Bud cocked his head a little as Tim made a face at her and she seemed to smile again, wider. Her eyes crinkled a bit and she wrinkled her nose at the same time Tim wrinkled his up too. _

_Oh shit._

_"Um…maybe I should bring her back to Lyla."_

_That seemed to bring Tim to reality. He nodded, his voice quiet. "Yeah, she probably wouldn't be thrilled with me holding her kid. Or being around her."_

_"What happened with you guys?" It blurted out before he knew what he'd said. He immediately stammered, at Tim's surprised look. "Um…I'm sorry, not my business, nevermind…sorry." He took Eve, putting her back in the carrier. She whined, kicking her feet as he attached the safety belt and harness around her. _

_After a second, Bud thought Tim had walked off in silence, the other man spoke softly. "You're a good brother Bud. Stay that way." He paused and chuckled, walking backwards away from him. "What happened is your sister happened. That's all. Tell your dad I'm around if he needs me." _

_What the hell was that supposed to mean? He watched Tim walk away and then sighed, taking Eve, who was now crying, and bringing her back upstairs to Lyla. He pushed the carrier at her and she glared at him. "I ask you to watch her for like five minutes."_

_"She shouldn't even be in a hospital! What if she gets sick, huh?" he demanded. He shook his head, scowling at her. His sister was crazy. She did this on purpose. He leaned in, hissing. "I just…I don't…" he let out a frustrated growl. Stupid Lyla. Crazy sister. "I'll see you later." This wasn't the place._

_"Take her with you please. There's milk in the fridge at Dad's house."_

_"Fine." He didn't know much about babies. Living with his sister had kind of enlightened him to many things. Most of them quite disgusting. He carried Eve out of the hospital, taking Lyla's car. She was driving their dad's Suburban. He drove home slowly, always mindful of the baby. A few hours after he got her settled in her portable crib, he settled himself in front of the TV with a beer. He studied a picture on the coffee table, of them all at Eve's christening, in the church here in Dillon. He cocked his head. It was a funny picture, all of them together. Missing Tabby and their mother and it would have been a perfect family photo. Maybe Eve's dad too._

_He frowned slightly. It seemed like it would be too perfect, all of it going that way. He glanced up as the door opened. "Hey," Lyla called softly, dropping the keys on the entry table. She dropped her bag to the floor and kicked off her boots, flopping backwards onto the couch beside him. She sighed, closing her eyes. "I really could use a drink." She sat up, groaning. "Too bad I'm nursing."_

_He shuddered. "Could you not talk about that stuff?"_

_"You live with me."_

_"Yeah."_

_A moment passed and she frowned, her voice soft. "Why do you live with me? Why did you come to stay? I can do this on my own."_

_He looked sideways. Lyla always seemed like an only child. Or a cousin to him. She was older by about six years, while he was only older than Tabby by fifteen months. The true middle child. He shrugged. "You're family. I wanted to help." I wanted something other than Texas, but didn't want to go back to Mom. He stood up, going into the kitchen, hunting for leftovers from last night. _

_They ate silently in front of the TV, like they were teenagers again. He hugged a pillow to his chest, watching some dumb movie, while she tended to Eve. After Eve was settled again, Lyla returned to the couch, closing her eyes and sighing, returning her attention to the movie. He sighed. "Is Tim Riggins Eve's father?"_

_Her head whipped sideways. He knew it was shocking. It was a question. He put it together. She sighed, her voice soft. "Why do you ask that?"_

_"I'm just wondering. Seeing him at the hospital." He'd never tell her that Tim held Eve. That's when he figured it out. Maybe Eve sensed something. Weren't dogs like that? Couldn't they tell which litter was theirs or something? Maybe it worked backwards and kids could tell who their parents were. Tim didn't seem to notice or care. He shrugged. "Is it true?"_

_A long, silent moment passed between them. Her voice fell to a hushed whisper. "You can never say anything."_

_Yeah. I kind of got that. "Does Dad know?"_

_"Yes. I told him when I got pregnant."_

_"Anyone else?"_

_"Jason Street." _

_"Mom?"_

_"No."_

_He nodded. After a few minutes, he stood up, walking into the kitchen again. He returned with a bag of popcorn and a beer for her. "I think you need it anyways," he said. He flopped back down, looking at the movie. He shrugged. "I need to call Tinker. We're going to hang out tomorrow. I can bring the baby if you want."_

_She gave him a funny look. He shrugged. It was no big deal. She spoke slowly. "Okay, but you're not letting Tinker take care of the baby."_

_"He's good with kids, has a ton of brothers and sisters."_

_"He's huge."_

_"But great with a football."_

_"She's my baby, not a football!"_

_"Kind of looks like a football," he teased. He laughed when she threw a pillow at him, shrugging. "What? She does." And they never spoke about Tim again._

* * *

><p>"Can you please fix this?" Evie asked, pointing to her iPad. It drew Bud out of the long memory, his eyes flickering a little as he brought himself to reality. He nodded, reaching over to fix the brightness on Evie's iPad. It didn't seem fair the kid had one and he had Lyla's old one. The kid was spoiled to death. He was glad she actually used the word 'please.' She smiled up at him. "Thank you. Are we there yet?"<p>

He hit his head on the seat in front of him, shaking his head. "No."

"How long?"

Bud glanced at his watch, groaning. "Another hour."

"Shoot darn."

"Language," Lyla said, her eyes closed and her arms closed over her chest. She sighed, still keeping her head turned. "Do you want a star?"

"Yes."

"Then watch your movie."

Eve quivered a little in her seat, peering out the window. She looked like an advertisement for children's electronics, with a Frozen headset draped around her neck, plugged into her white mini iPad with a blue Marvel case and kickstand. She had her favorite blanket wrapped around her, a Game Boy in one hand, and a LeapFrog math game wedged between her seat and the bulkhead. He sighed, shaking his head a little and reached to adjust her seatbelt. Her stuffed panther was stuck. "Are we going to see my daddy?" she asked, looking up at him.

He glanced over his shoulder. Lyla didn't move a muscle, but he knew she could hear. He wasn't sure what to say to that, but…hell. He'd stayed out of it this entire time. Every single time he thought he should say something, he never did. Now it was hurting Eve. He loved her. So he was going to tell the truth, even if it killed him. He felt his palms get kind of shaky. "Yes," he said softly.

"Oh. Can I see him today?"

"No," he drawled, unsure what else to do. Shit though, what if they did run into Tim? Would Eve just shout that he was her dad? Then what? He sure as hell hoped Lyla had a plan. He swallowed hard. He didn't want the conflict. His entire life there had been conflict between his parents, between his sister and parents, between him and her, all that stuff. He didn't want that anymore. He set Eve's headphones on and made sure her iPad was up so she couldn't hear him when he leaned over to Lyla. He took a deep breath. "I know you're not really sleeping, but so help me Lyla, I'm gone if you don't do this. It's not fair." He waited a second and slumped in his seat, grabbing a magazine and flicking to a random article, his voice trembling. "And I don't want to have to do that, but I will."

He saw an eye open out of the corner of his and he swallowed even harder. Lyla turned her head completely, her gaze focused solely on him. He didn't look, but pretended to keep reading. She smirked. "You're a good little brother."

"I know," he said, trying to keep his voice even.

"I've got this."

"That's what you've said for six years. Doesn't seem like it."

Lyla reached under the seat in front of them and pulled out a medical journal, opening it up and clicking a pen, starting to read and annotate. She sighed, long and slow, whispering. "Now I finally do."

I'll believe it when I see it, Bud thought, looking up at the speaker when the captain announced they'd be going through a bit of turbulence and to fasten seatbelts. He rolled his eyes. The captain had no idea how accurate that statement would be for the next few weeks.


	6. Merry Christmas to You

_**6. Merry Christmas to You **_

"Grandpa!"

"Evie!"

Lyla smiled, setting some bags down in the front hall of the house, stepping aside with her hands on her hips as Eve flung herself at Buddy, who lifted her high up into the air, kissing her cheeks. Eve giggled. "Scratchy," she said, rubbing her hand on her face. Buddy had a beard, she thought, lifting her eyebrow. That was new. She wrapped her arms tighter around him. "I missed you Grandpa."

Buddy squeezed her hard. "I missed you so much Eve-Bug. Give me another kiss. Love you. Here you go sweetheart, get down there now, Grandpa's not as young as he used to be." He winced a little, taking a step away. Lyla immediately zeroed in on the air cast on his ankle. He limped away to hold his arms out to her. "Give me a kiss baby."

She smirked, giving him a hug and kissed his cheek. "Hey Daddy."

"Where's your brother?"

"Getting the bags out of the car."

"You know you didn't have to get a rental car, I could get you a car," he said, a little puff off. His eyes kind of lit up, jumping to another topic. He knelt down to Eve, who was clutching his knee, not letting go. "Hey baby, you want to see some animals?"

"Animals?"

"Yeah, like horses and cows and even a goat!"

Eve scowled. "Are there chickens? I hate chickens."

A bad experience at a petting zoo when she was three was forever imprinted in her memory, Lyla sighed, cringing a little. A chicken nipped at her and now she hated them. She also scarily attacked chicken nuggets whenever they were on her plate. Like vengeance or something. I have a weird kid, she thought, smiling slightly. She followed them into the kitchen. "So where are these animals Daddy?"

"Oh, a ranch I know."

Her radar started pinging. Danger, danger. "Oh?" she said. I know of a ranch around here. She cocked her head, keeping her voice as even as possible. "What ranch?"

"A ranch."

An eyebrow went clear to her hairline. There is one ranch I know of in the Dillon area. You are not allowed to take her there no matter what. Eve was looking between them, sensing the tension. Her teeth grit. "Not yet, Daddy."

Buddy scowled. "Well then when Lyla?"

Just not yet. Give me some time. Eve stomped her foot, whining. "Mommmmmy! I want to go to the ranch and see a horsie! Can we please go see a horsie?" She sniffled, wiping at her nose. She blinked a few times and then began to cry. "I don't feel good!"

All that junk food from the airport, flying for two and a half hours, a layover in Dallas for three hours, sitting on a tarmac delayed because of ice in Dillon's regional airport, and finally an hour and a half flight from Dallas and then a twenty-five minute drive…ugh. I'm in for a treat of a daughter tonight, Lyla thought, walking around the counter to kneel at Eve's height. "Dry your eyes," she said, wiping at them with the edge of her sleeve. She gave her a hug, smoothing her hand on Eve's hair. "We're going to go upstairs, take a shower, have something to eat, and then you're going to take a nap. Okay?"

"No," Eve whined.

"Yes," she laughed, her nose brushing against Eve's. Her eyebrows lifted and she whispered. "I think if you do all of that, in that order, Grandpa will read you a story before bedtime."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." She stood up, turning Eve towards Buddy, who took her hand. She picked up Eve's bags, carrying them upstairs. It took a few minutes, getting everything settled in one of the two guest rooms. She was going to share a room with Eve while Bud took the other one. The room she'd procured had a little turret, which she always thought was cool. She didn't know if Buddy had it designed that way on purpose, for Eve, or not. She pulled out the trundle bed from beneath the bed she was going to use, and went to the closet, removing a set of Frozen sheets to make the bed with. She had to give it to her father, he really went out of his way to make sure Eve had everything she ever desired. It was a shame she didn't see him often enough, but Buddy Skyped with her and she tried to get him to visit Chicago as much as he could stand it, but…he just got so out of sorts in a different environment.

It took a couple of hours, but she felt relatively okay. Second wind, she supposed. She treated it like a double shift in the ER. Triage everything. Drink a lot of coffee. Once Eve was down, protesting the entire time and then passing out in Buddy's arms as he carried her up the stairs, much to Lyla's protests, she was ready to take a second for herself. "We don't have any food," she announced, staring into the fridge.

"Tim's been busy," Buddy said.

"Where is Bud?" She didn't have to ask. Bud had taken the first opportunity to run away. She checked her phone. He let her know he was off with Tinker. Of course he was. She tossed it into her purse. "I'll go get groceries. Will you be okay with Eve by yourself?"

He scowled. "Yes." He took offense to that, she knew. Buddy scowled deeper. "I am not an invalid Lyla. I can handle my own granddaughter."

"Daddy I'm not saying that you're an invalid, but she's a handful," she said, gathering her purse and the car keys. She sighed, reaching out and gave him a quick hug. He hugged back, but he just didn't seem as strong and bear-like as he once had been. He'd lost a lot of weight, courtesy of all the heart surgeries and the new diet. She knew he'd be okay from here on out, heart and stroke-wise, but…the aftereffects of both those big health scares had taken their toll on him. She just hoped they could stop them before they got worse, like the paralysis and memory-loss. "I love you."

"I'm glad you're here baby." Buddy smiled a little, glancing away. He walked away from her to the living room, taking a seat in his chair. He rocked in it for a moment before he turned to her. She could see the determined expression. Buddy Garrity was going to treat this topic like he would acquiring a prime recruit from another school district. Find the loopholes in the rules and convince the high school board of athletics that he was in the right when he was clearly in the wrong. And he'd win, she thought. That was the thing. She could protest it all she wanted, but…Buddy Garrity always got the recruit. Her shoulders fell a little. "Are we going to talk about Eve and Tim now?"

She shook her head. "No, we're not. I'm going to the grocery store."

"He's going to figure it out and then where will you be Lyla?" Buddy rotated his gaze on her. She felt like she was in high school again. He frowned, his eyes squinting. "I love you both. He's practically my son."

"Well Bud will be glad to hear it," she said sarcastically. She jerked open the door. "Bye Daddy, I'll be back in a couple of hours." I might have to stop and get a drink or something. She pulled the door shut against Buddy's protests that it was time, she couldn't manipulate anyone further. It stung. Felt harsh to hear her own father call her a manipulator. "I learned from the best," she muttered, referring to him. She opened the door to the rental car, a sporty SUV. She climbed in and backed out, driving off towards the grocery store. Dillon had expanded a bit. Allowed some chain restaurants other than Applebees and the Alamo Freeze to set up shop. There was a Target and… "Oh my God." She pulled into the parking lot, not even caring. "Starbucks."

There was a freaking Starbucks in Dillon. She almost sprinted inside, running up to the counter. It seemed a bit wrong, like she was cheating or something, going to such a corporate coffee place when the local spot down the road had just as good, probably better, coffee. "What can I get you?" a high school kid behind the counter asked.

"Grande double skim latte," a voice said from behind her.

A chill crept down her spine. Oh God. She closed her eyes, clearing her throat and opened her eyes. Do it Lyla. Just…take one for the team, just turn around, smile and pretend like nothing was wrong. Which it very much was, but that was beside the point. You have to acknowledge it, just act normal. Act normal…act normal! She turned quickly as her mind shouted the last encouragement, her mind not fully prepared for the sight she was about to see. She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat as she took him in for probably the third time in seven years. Wow, was the first thought in her mind. Damn, was the second.

She didn't know what to expect when she saw him again. The last time he had looked awful. Long hair tied back in a ponytail, his ribs and collarbone showing. He just…he'd looked sick the last time she'd seen him. That was…hell, she was pretty sure Eve was one and she saw him from a distance. This was the first time they'd actually been toe-to-toe. She swallowed again, glancing up and down as he stepped in front of her, not breaking eye contact as he forked over a twenty to the barista. "Large Pike," he said.

He drank coffee? Since when? She narrowed her eyes. This was surreal. Like an out-of-body experience. His hair was short. First thing she noticed. The second was that he had a beard. The third…he looked really good. Oh shit, she thought, feeling her skin kind of crawl when he turned to look back at her again. He passed her the coffee. It burned into her palm, but she didn't notice. Everything was muted. He nodded to her and lifted his coffee. "Later."

Oh my God. She turned quickly. "Wait!" Shit Lyla, what are you doing? If he didn't want to talk, don't encourage it. Take your coffee and go. She hurried after him, standing outside on the sidewalk. He was halfway to a large navy Silverado. He just…she couldn't believe it. He looked so…geez, she couldn't key in on anything else. He had on a dark blue flannel shirt under a black worn leather jacket, clean jeans, and clean boots. He looked…respectable. She couldn't believe she was using that word. She gestured towards him with the coffee. "Thanks. For the coffee."

"Sure." He studied her for a second, smirking. "So you're here."

"I'm here." Now what? Say goodbye? Run away until he got a look at Eve and she shouted 'daddy!' and chased after him? She pursed her lips, lifting her eyebrows. "I'm going grocery shopping." Why did she tell him that?

"Okay. I forgot to stop and pick up your dad's things. He's busy with the team. Semis are next week." He ran his tongue over his teeth. "We're probably going to State again."

Always the bridesmaid and never the bride. The Panthers had been to Division 5A State about six more times since she graduated high school. They hadn't won since 2005. "Good luck with that," she murmured. She stepped towards her car. "I have to go. I have to get home soon." That was a lie.

"Yeah." He cocked his head, his voice soft. "Where's your daughter?"

Was this a test? She froze. Don't show anything on your face. She put on her 'doctor bad news' face. Kept it from moving even the slightest twitch. Give nothing away. "She's with my dad right now. We just got into town, it's been a really long day and she's not used to traveling." She took a deep breath, her voice soft. "I would really like it if you didn't drop by the house while we're here. You don't need to check on Buddy in the next two weeks."

He frowned. The only real emotion she'd seen from him in the last 10 minutes. "I don't need to, but I want to."

"I'm asking you to not come by the house," she repeated. She took a deep breath, frowning a little. Maybe if she injected a little bit of truth to the mix. She smiled slightly. Manipulator. If that's what her dad and everyone thought, then fine. That's what she'd be. "My daughter is six right now, she's in a very confusing time in her life and her father is not involved. Any man who comes to the house who isn't a relative, she thinks might be her dad. I would appreciate it if you don't come by the house without notifying anyone, I don't want her to be confused." My God, she thought. I'm good. She glanced across the street. She could see her childhood church on the other side of a couple buildings. And I am going straight to hell.

Tim chuckled. He leaned against the hood of the truck, taking a sip of his coffee. He smiled, clearly amused. "You don't want me coming by the house because you think your kid will think I'm her father?"

What a good excuse, she thought, realizing something. The words began to tumble out of her mouth. "Yes, I think so. She's confused, she…if you were to run into her, she might even think you were her father," she said, trying to inject a bit of a laugh. Shrug it off and pretend. "Funny, right?"

He cocked his head, his forehead wrinkling slightly, but he didn't outwardly frown. Again, he seemed amused. "Yeah, funny, I guess." He drew himself up straight. "I have to get to work, while this has been a pleasure. I'll stay away." He squinted, his voice hissing. "Wouldn't want to confuse your daughter. I'm sure you're doing a good job of that yourself."

"You're such an ass," she said, ire riling up inside of her at that comment. They couldn't have one conversation without it devolving into this hatefulness. "I'm trying to be a good mother. I'm not going to confuse her. You can listen to me or you can not, but if my daughter is hurt because of this…"

"Yeah, I get it. I'll stay away, fine, whatever. Merry Freaking Christmas Lyla, welcome back," he spat at her, climbing into the truck. He lowered the window, looking out the passenger side at her, rooted in the sidewalk pavement. "I'll stay out of your life, you stay out of mine, deal?"

"Deal!" she shouted. She watched him drive away, now thoroughly pissed off. He was the one who started this. This entire thing, he started, seven years ago. Now he was acting hurt, like it was her fault. Well the rest of it would be her fault, but the stuff seven years ago wasn't. She went to her car, climbing into the front and then yelled, pounding her fists on the steering wheel. She backed out and went to the grocery store, throwing things into the backseat when she heard another voice call out.

"Well if it isn't Lyla Garrity, back in Dillon."

She knew that voice. The sarcasm dripping in it was the clue. She didn't even bother turning around, putting her tote bag in the front seat, closing the door. "Merry Christmas Tyra, how are you?" She turned, leaning on the door, just as Tyra Collette wandered over, hands in the pockets of a fancy designer trenchcoat. Nice, she'd heard Tyra had done well for herself on the lobbying circuit.

"Fine, fancy seeing you here." Tyra smiled. Lyla expected it to be sarcastic as well, but to her surprise it was filled with warmth. She took her hands out of her pockets. "You in town?"

"For two weeks." Two weeks of hell.

"Yeah…sorry to hear about your dad, my mom gives me updates." She chuckled, tossing her hair, a pretty copper color, out of her eyes. "Whether I want them or not, but…I am sorry. Can I help you with anything?"

What the hell was this? She squinted. Something was amiss here. She smirked. "You putting me on or something Tyra? Or are you just filled with the Christmas spirit?"

Thankfully, Tyra knew what she was getting at. She chuckled, reaching to pull open her trenchcoat. Lyla blinked. There was a fairly decent-sized pregnancy bump on her waist. Lyla pegged her instantly at five months. "Guess I'm filled with this desire to be nice. Freaking pregnancy, I feel like being nice all the time. Have no idea why."

Shit. She ran her tongue over her teeth, squinting a little. Bud said that…that Tim had a girlfriend…oh Jesus. She released a shaky breath. "Congratulations…um, you and Tim will be good parents." She turned around to get in her car when she heard a laugh and snort from Tyra. She glanced over her shoulder. "What?" Did Tyra think they wouldn't?

Tyra laughed again, her fingers lifting to her lip, hiding it, but she really couldn't. She placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head and grinning. "Tim? Really Garrity? No, Tim is not the father. I'm not that crazy to procreate with a Riggins." Well one of us is, Lyla thought. She turned a little further from the car, listening to Tyra. Tyra grinned again, lifting up her left hand. "I stupidly decided to do the whole marriage thing a couple years ago."

Oh, oh my. Buddy failed to mention that to her. She didn't even hear it from Julie or Matt. Must have just…well yeah, she wasn't close with Tyra. It wasn't like she was a topic of conversation the rare times she spoke with Matt and Julie. "Oh…wow. Congratulations. That's wonderful." She cocked her head, curious. "Is it…anyone I know?"

She shook her head, waving her hand. "Naw, you don't know him, he's a lawyer in DC. He'll be here on Christmas Eve, he works for the White House." Tyra genuinely seemed happy, for which Lyla was happy. It was nice…strange, but nice. The other woman smiled quickly again. "Is your daughter with you? Mom mentioned something about it. That should make Buddy happy."

I'm having a cordial conversation with Tyra Collette about marriage and babies. Someone check if hell is frozen, she thought, arching her eyebrow a bit. She nodded, smiling in spite of herself and reached for her phone, automatically pulling up a photo of Eve to show her. "Yes, Evangeline. We call her Eve or Evie, depending on the time of day." The picture she'd chosen was from Halloween, when Eve wanted to go as a zombie hockey player. She had dressed up as a mad scientist, the two of them kneeling together in front of their front yard, decorated to the extreme. "She's six now."

"She's really cute, I think the pictures Buddy have in the bar are a couple years old. She looks…" Tyra trailed off, frowning slightly at the picture. She glanced at her and automatically dropped the phone. She cleared her throat, stepping back slightly. "She looks like a good kid. How…how old did you say again?"

"Six." She put the phone back in her pocket, gesturing to the car. As much fun as this was, she did need to get back. The scary thing about Dillon was she could still run into ten or so people she'd gone to school with and hadn't seen since. It could take days before she got back home. She smiled again. "She's been in a mood since we left the airport and she'll be awake in a couple hours. I should be there."

Tyra nodded curtly. "Yes. Hey um, I'm sorry if this is rude, but then again I'm not that sorry but…her dad?" She cocked her head, frowning. "Where is he?"

Lyla wasn't sure why Tyra was asking, but she had an inkling. She arched her brow, her voice cool. The friendliness was gone now. "You're right Tyra, that is rude. To answer, not that I need to, but her father is out of the picture. He wanted nothing to do with her and he is not in her life. I'm sure I'll see you again while I'm in town, so have a nice day." She climbed into the SUV and left, without looking at Tyra. All she saw, from the corner of her eye, was a curious look as Tyra followed her SUV out of the parking lot. Shit, she thought, realizing what this meant. Tyra was loyal to Tim above all else. She would go straight to him and say something. Jason would hold it, because he was loyal to both of them, but Tyra didn't give a shit if her life was destroyed.

Oh boy, she thought, slowly releasing a breath. She reached for her phone, calling a number quickly. "What do you want?" Tim demanded, as the phone rang. Head this off at the pass. Her lies were unraveling in front of her, all because she had to run into Tyra Collette and stupidly show her a picture of Eve.

"I think we need to talk. If we're both going to be in the same city for two weeks, we should probably just…just talk." She stopped at a red light, taking another breath. Here we go Lyla. Just say it. "I can see you later this week."

"Sunday. Bring your kid to the ranch or something." He hung up. That was succinct. She was secretly glad. Okay. She set the phone in the cupholder. Guess now she had until Sunday. That was four days from now. Four days to get it right. She guessed she'd just start practicing. There was no other way to say it.

The light turned green and she headed back to the house, practicing the ways to break the news. "Tim, congratulations you're the father of a six-year old," she murmured to herself. She shook her head. This would require some more work. She glanced in the rearview mirror, hoping beyond hope that if Tyra had any sense of this…she'd at least consult her. She closed her eyes briefly. Ugh. There was no way in hell that would happen. She had better be fully prepared Tim to be arriving on her doorstep that evening. She didn't think Tyra would take too long.


	7. Sending the Letter to Santa

_**7. Sending the Letter to Santa**_

"Grandpa can I ride the sled thing there?" she asked, pointing to some weird machine thing the football players were pushing across the field. She could read very well, in her opinion, and she saw that it said 'sled' on it. It didn't look like a sled. She sniffed, kicking her boot on the ground. "No snow!" It was frosty though. And cold, but no snow. She didn't like that.

She pulled on Grandpa's hand. He'd kind of nodded at her, but hadn't said anything. Buddy glanced down, smiling. "What baby?"

"Can I ride the thing over there?"

"Oh no baby, that's not a toy. Or a ride. It's for the players. I don't want you to get hurt, you sit here in the golf cart with Grandpa." He picked up her backpack from the floor of the golf cart. It was kind of fun to drive around. He let her drive. She was bored though. Mommy said she could spend the day with Grandpa, but to be nice and listen to him. I'm always nice, she thought, climbing out of the golf cart. She wandered to the bench, where a guy with a baseball cap was writing on a clipboard.

He glanced down at her, frowning. "Tell me you're not one of my players' kids?"

"No." She offered her hand, like she saw grown-ups do all the time. "I'm Evangeline Garrity. Nice to meet you." She smiled again. The guy seemed kind of nice. Maybe he was the coach. She cocked her head. Her earmuffs were digging into her ear. She reached up and adjusted them, pulling them off, scowling. She shrugged again. "So are you the coach or something?"

"Am I the coach or something? Who do you think I am?"

Eve shrugged. She ahd no idea. He looked like a coach. "The coach?" she suggested. She smiled again, grinning. "My Grandpa is Buddy Garrity. Do you know him?"

"Do I know…of course I do," the guy said. He smiled again, finally shaking her hand. "I'm Billy Riggins, I'm one of the coaches. Defensive coordinator." He pointed out to the field, to the guys pushing on the sleds. "Those are my guys, I'm working on plays. Does your grandpa know you're wandering around unsupervised?"

"No."

"Well at least you know…." Billy trailed off, glancing down at her again. He shoved the clipboard under his arm, reaching to wrap his arms around himself. He looked down at her with his head cocked, a frown pulling on his face. "Did you say Garrity? You're Lyla's kid, right?"

That would be right. She nodded smartly. She knew you shouldn't talk to strangers, but if Billy was a coach and he knew her grandpa, she figured it was okay. She put her earmuffs back on and put her hands in her pockets. The mittens were doing nothing for her. This place was almost as cold as Chicago! She couldn't believe it. "Lyla Garrity is my mommy. She's at the house now." She turned around when there was the sound of a dog barking. A truck had pulled into the parking lot, a dog sticking its head out of the window. "Puppy!"

Billy muttered beside her. "Oh great."

The dog jumped out of the car, waiting on his owner, who flipped him a biscuit, and walked towards them. The dog hurried towards her when she walked to it, her hands outstretched. "Careful there," the owner of the dog said, coming to a stop beside her. He smiled a little, but she noticed it wasn't a big smile. Most people she knew smiled really big, like their whole face got big. Not this guy. She drew her hand back a bit; Mommy told her never to run to strange dogs, they might be mean. This one didn't seem mean. He was long and low and he had long ears and he howled a lot. And drooled, she thought, frowning at a line of it on her Frozen mitten. She wiped the drool from Olaf's face onto the dog's ear. He didn't care. The guy knelt down, ruffling the dog's ears. "He'll lick you to death. And drool on you."

"He's funny," she giggled, the dog knocking off her earmuffs as he climbed on her for kisses, licking and sniffing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "He's funny looking. What's his name?"

"His name is Dracula."

"Dracula?" she said, frowning slightly. She laughed when he tackled her back onto the ground, licking her again. She finally sat up with the help from Coach Billy and the other guy. "Why do you call him that? That's not a dog's name."

"It's his name, because he licks you to death instead of sucking out your blood like a vampire." The guy cocked his head a little. He had a beard and he seemed very nice, she thought, peering at him again. She thought she might have seen him before. Maybe he was a friend of Grandpa's. "You're Evangeline Garrity."

"Yuppers."

He smirked a little, holding his hand out. "I'm Tim. I met you when you were a baby."

"You did!" she exclaimed, immediately interested. He seemed like a nice guy. She crawled over the dog towards him, pushing herself to her feet. She glanced at her knee, which hurt a little, wiping her mitten on it. She'd scraped her tights and she could see that she'd probably gotten her knee too, but it was okay, because this was a big deal and she had to talk to this guy. He might know her daddy. She moved closer to him, touching his shoulder for balance as she fixed her pink sparkly boot. "I want to ask you a question then."

He smiled again, this time it got bigger. At least she could see his teeth. "Shoot."

"My mommy lived here and…ouch." She stumbled a little, trying to get the shoe on. She reached down, hopping on one foot and then fell completely backwards. "Whoops!" She did a backflip, catching herself. She tugged at her skirt, which went up over her head and hopped again, finally getting the shoe over her heel.

The guy laughed. It was funny. Like a giggle, but she'd never heard a guy as big as him giggle. He lifted her up by her arms, setting her on the bench. He knelt down and picked up her pink Ugg. He held it up, grinning. Full smile, she thought, grinning back. That was nice. "Let me help you with that Little Garrity." He put the boot on her foot and then brushed off her knees. "There you go. You okay now?"

"I think so, thank you. What's your name?" He was like a prince, she thought.

"My name is Tim Riggins," he said, taking her hand and shaking it. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, yeah, so my mommy lived here," she said, looking up as he took a seat beside her on the bench. He leaned against it, his fingers folded. Giving her full attention. That was nice. Most adults didn't listen to her. She thought this guy was listening to her. She took a deep breath. This could be big. "So…so I want something from Santa for Christmas."

"I imagine you do."

"Yeah, so I want a new hockey stick and new skates, but first I want a daddy." She reached into her pocket and fumbled with her Christmas list, which she was planning on asking Grandpa if they could stop at the mailman's place and she could mail it to Santa. She knew there were a few ways to mail things to Santa, but this seemed the most logical. It would probably get there, although she did know that you could let the wind take it away. Maybe she'd do that, there was lots of wind in Texas. Cold wind, she thought, shivering against another blast of it. She held up the list to the guy. "See here, I want a daddy."

The guy seemed to get upset for a moment and then nod. "Yeah, I heard you don't have one." He frowned, a little deeper. She didn't like that look on him. He looked better when he was smiling. "So what's your question?"

Oh yeah, her question. "So my question is…did you know my mommy? Maybe you knew my daddy. I don't know if he was here or not." Eve took a deep breath, rolling her eyes upwards. "Her name is Lyla Garrity and she's a doctor and she lives in Chicago and she used to be a cheerleader, but she tells me it's okay because it really is a real sport and not a way to just get a husband." She giggled. "Because Uncle Bud and Uncle Jason said that's all they do is get husbands." She immediately frowned. "I don't know what that means."

"Uncle Jason?"

"Uncle Wheels, the guy in the wheelchair, he broked his neck playing football."

The guy smiled again. "Yeah I know him. He's my best friend. I know your mom too, we used to date in high school."

Really? She lifted her face to his, screwing up her nose and frowning. "So are you my daddy then?" she asked. She thought she'd seen his picture somewhere, but she didn't know anyone with a beard.

The guy reached over and fixed her earmuffs. "Kid, if I was your dad, you wouln't be living in Chicago and playing hockey. What's that about anyway? You hit a puck with a stick and skate on some razor blades on frozen water?"

That's exactly what hockey was. "I'm good at it, I like it. I win games."

"Well that's a good thing." Tim looked over at something over her shoulder. "Mr. Garrity."

"Grandpa, I was talking to Mr. Tim, he's a nice guy but he doesn't like hockey," she said, lifting her arms for Grandpa, who helped her off the bench. She pointed to the dog. "He has a dog named Dracula. Can I get a dog for Christmas?"

"You want a lot of things for Christmas," Buddy said, gesturing for her to go to the golf cart. He didn't look happy. He was limping, she didn't know why he was doing that and he really seemed upset. That wasn't good. "Tim, I didn't know you were coming by. You met Eve?"

"Yeah, I met her once when she was a baby. She was a few months old." Tim smiled at her again. He cocked his head. "You're a riot kid, you sure you're Lyla's daughter?"

"Riggins," Buddy warned.

What did that mean? Eve shrugged. "Last I checked." She wiped at her nose and then giggled a bit. "I have to go eat lunch." She shook her shoulder a little. The coat was too puffy on her. Then she reached to nibble at her thumbnail, glancing away. Before smiling again. Maybe she should get Mr. Tim to come with her to lunch. Ask him more questions. "You should come with me."

"And why would I do that?" Mr. Tim asked, at the same time that Buddy warned her. "Evie, we're going home."

Because I can ask you questions, duh. She pushed her fingers through her hair, standing on her left leg, looking away for a second as she came up with her story. She looked to him again. "Because you have a dog and I want one and I can ask you questions." She'd ask him questions about her dad after she asked him about the dog, but he didn't need to know that.

Tim laughed, but Buddy smacked his forehead to his hand. "I think that's a nice offer, but I have to get going. I've got to go to work."

"Where do you work?"

"I own a ranch. I have horses, cattle, pigs, and goats. And chickens."

Chickens! "I hate chickens," she growled. He laughed. She scowled again. "That's not funny."

"I think it is."

"I don't. I don't think you're funny either."

"You're a little firecracker," Tim laughed again, clapping his hands. He reached down and lifted her clear off the ground, putting her feet on the bench so she was standing and was the same height as him. He smiled again. "Tell you what, I don't care what your mom says, you ask your uncle or your grandpa and you can come out to the ranch whenever you want and I'll teach you to ride a horse. You can also learn how to play football because down here in Dillon, we don't play hockey."

She smirked at him. "I'll teach you to play hockey."

A strange look crossed his face. He narrowed his eyes and didn't look like he was joking anymore. He frowned, picking her back up and putting her on the ground. He stepped away, lifting his fingers a little to say goodbye. "See you around kid, have fun with your grandpa." He paused. "Good luck with the dad thing, I hope Santa gives you what you want."

I hope so too, she thought sadly, waving goodbye. She watched the dog run after him, hopping into the car with al ittle big of help, because his legs were so short. She turned on her heel, pointing to Grandpa. "Buddy, we're going to the ranch!" she announced.

"It's Grandpa and we're not going to the ranch, we're going to go home."

"Why not?"

"Because your mom wouldn't want it."

She scowled at him, her hands on her hips. "That's a dumb reason."

"Well she's your mother, so we listen to her," Buddy said, taking her hand and leading her to the car. He'd left the golf cart on the sidelines, she thought. He got to the car and stopped. Something crossed his face and he shook his head. He reached down and touched his knee, wincing. "Um…wait a minute here honey." He left her beside the car, walking around it. She shrugged, leaning against it and pulled out one of her handheld games. She'd snuck it from Mommy's purse. She wasn't supposed to play it all the time.

"Where's your grandfather?"

Eve glanced up at Tim, who was standing beside the car. "Did you leave and come back?" she asked.

"I just parked my truck over there," he said, gesturing. He frowned at her again. "Where's Grandpa?"

"Dunno."

"Huh." He left her standing there. Adults were weird, she thought, kneeling on the grass to play with Dracula, who wasn't as bouncy as before. He was kind of lazy, she thought, seeing him roll onto his back, letting her scratch his tummy. She kept playing with him for a few minutes until Tim came back, clapping his hands. "You're coming with me kid."

That wasn't right. "You're a stranger, I can't go with you," she said.

"Grandpa can't drive right now, so instead of waiting on your brother to come get you, I'll take you to your brother. He's with his friends," Tim said, getting her booster seat out of the car. He carried it to his truck, as Buddy appeared beside them. She shrugged, still playing with the dog. A few minutes later, she heard them coming back and perked up, listening to their conversation. Adults always talked about things she knew she shouldn't be hearing, but they never noticed her.

"She won't get upset because she won't find out."

"And when she tells her mom that a Mr. Tim helped her? Mr. Garrity are you sure we can't just wait on Bud?"

"He'll take too long and I have to wait this out. She'll be bored."

"Well…okay, so long as you promise I won't hear about this from her. I don't want this Mr. Garrity."

"I know son, I know. I'm sorry."

"Just get better." Tim turned and looked down at her, squinting for a second. I wasn't listening, she almost wanted to say, but kept her mouth shut. She didn't want them to think that she was. He smiled again, but not as big. "Okay Eve, let's get you to my car, I'll take you to my ranch and your uncle can pick you up there. He's already on his way." He glared at Grandpa. "Which makes no sense."

Buddy shrugged. "He's closer to your ranch than here."

"Whatever Mr. Garrity."

"Have fun with Mr. Tim baby, and don't repeat anything he says, okay?" Buddy said, giving her ah ug and a kiss. He smiled sadly. "I'll be better, I promise. Have fun."

What did that mean? She shrugged, nodding. She frowned a little. He didn't look like he was in a good mood. He looked kind of sick. He limped to the golf cart, taking a seat. I'm sorry, she wanted to say, but kept her mouth shut, her head hanging as she walked to the truck. She felt Mr. Tim help her up and she adjusted her own seatbelt. He didn't say anything. The dog sat beside her. "Where are we going?" she whispered, unsure about this. She didn't know him. He was a nice guy, but she didn't know him.

Tim closed the door and started the truck. "We're going to go to my house."

She nodded, clutching at her backpack. There was her stuffed animal, Panther, in it. She hugged it even tighter, looking out the window. A moment passed and she glanced at him again. He was quietly driving. Not saying a word and the radio wasn't on. She took a deep breath. He seemed kind of scary but…he was nice right now. "Is Grandpa sick?" she whispered.

Tim didn't say anything for a minute, but then he nodded a little. "Yes, Grandpa's not feeling well. So I'm going to take you to my house. Then your uncle will pick you up. You can see the horses."

"Okay." She waited another second. She cleared her throat. "Does Mommy know where I am?"

After a few minutes, Tim shook his head. "Your Mommy doesn't know, but I'll tell her you were with me. Does that make you feel better?"

"Yes."

"Okay then." He cleared his throat, hitting his head back against his headrest. "So how old are you again? Seven?"

"Six," she whispered.

"Six, huh? That's really big. You go to the real kid school and everything."

"I'm best in my class." She didn't think she really was, but he didn't know that. I'm the best at reading and writing and spelling. She didn't like math. Science was fun. She touched the toes of her pink boots to the seat in front of her; she didn't reach it. I'm too short, she thought idly, looking out the window. It was pretty. There was no city like Chicago, she thought, touching her nose to the glass. No big buildings. Or trees or little streets. Just lots of land. She pointed. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

"That dipper thing."

Tim glanced in the direction she was pointing. He chuckled. "That's an oil pump. You never seen one of those? There's lots out here. Some just don't work anymore."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." He kept driving quietly before his voice softened. "So what else do you do in Chicago? You like it there?"

"Yeah, I like it. It's a fun place. I play hockey."

"What position? Do they even have positions?"

She rolled her eyes, snorting. "Do they have positions? I'm a winger." She made her finger into a gun, closing one eye and pretended to shoot it, making a cracking sound. She giggled. "Mommy says I'm a sharpshooter."

"Sharpshooter, huh? Well she'd know."

"What's that mean?"

"Nothing, I probably shouldn't say anything." They drove along quiet for a few more minutes before he spoke again, his voice soft. "You know you can tell your mom about this, it's not a big deal." He paused. She stiffened. What did he mean by that? He continued on, not looking at her, but focusing on the road. "I know you heard what I told your grandpa. It's okay. You can talk to your mom about me."

Okay. She looked at her hands. Did they not talk? Did they not get along? She swallowed hard, whispering. "Do you not like my mommy?" Maybe that's why he didn't want to take her. Maybe he didn't like her mommy.

Tim shook his head, quiet. "No, it's not that. It's a…well it's a lot of grown-up stuff."

"I understand it."

He laughed, but it was kind of sad. He sighed then, slumping in his seat. "Oh kid, I'm sure you of all the kids would understand it. That's the sad part." He cleared his throat and sat up. "We're here."

We were? She lifted her head, looking out the windshield, her eyes wide as he turned between two big gates with an 'R' in them. They pulled up a long driveway to a long building. Behind it was a big barn and there was another building and what looked like another barn and a lot of fences. Way off, where she couldn't see, there was a house. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to it when he helped her out of her seat.

"That's my house." He pointed to the road, which disappeared beyond some hills. "That's the road we were on and if you loop around, it takes you to another road and then the driveway to my house. This is on the other side of my land." He pointed in another direction and then just waved his arms all around. "All of this?" He grinned. This time she could see all his teeth. "This is mine."

"All of it?" she gaped.

"Yup. I started with about 40 acres and now I've got over 200."

That was a lot. She didn't know what an acre was, but it sounded a lot. She turned in circles a few times, wandering away from the driveway, her fingers drifting over the letter in her pocket. She made her way from the ranch and into the cool, dry grass, pulling off her mitten so she could touch it. It was scratchy, she thought, smiling as she danced her fingers through the fronds, which almost came to her head in a couple places. She kept walking, until she reached a clearing, with some trees around it. She looked up, spinning in a circle, her arms outstretched, the cold wind on her face.

She closed her eyes and giggled, flopping backwards into the grass. She swished her feet back and forth, like she was making a snow angel, but there was no snow. Just some frost. It was cold. She jumped to her feet and reached for the letter, opening it up and studying it. "All I want for Christmas," she whispered, looking up. She smiled sadly. I hope I get it. I know sometimes I don't always do what people ask but…but I always try to be nice. I always try to follow the rules. She sniffed, wiping her nose as she folded the letter up. She'd written Santa on it in bright red marker so he could see it in the air.

Maybe the mailman would be better, but she wanted to make sure he got it. The wind would be faster. She took a deep breath, holding it up to the next gust of wind. "All I want for Christmas is my daddy," she breathed, watching the letter slip from her grasp. She gasped, watching as it spun in the air, almost disappearing intot he sky an dshe blinked, making one more quick wish, jumping up to shout at the letter. "And for Mommy to not be sad!"

Oh I hope he got that one, she thought, holding her breath as the letter went away, gone in another minute. She fell down to her knees, picking up a stick. I want a daddy, she thought, dragging the stick in the dirt. I want Mommy to not be sad. I want…I want a daddy, she thought again. She began to draw a picture in the dirt with the stick. "With dark hair," she said, her voice soft. She smiled. "And he can ride a horse and he has a dog…and a truck and…he plays football…" she lifted her head, staring across the grass at Mr. Tim, who was talking with her Uncle Bud. There were two other guys with him, one who was tall and skinny and another who was…wow he was huge, she thought, lifting her eyebrows. Like a big teddy bear.

The daddy she wanted was Mr. Tim, she thought, cocking her head a little. She thought she had seen him before. Maybe she remembered from when she was a baby. He had a beard and he didn't have long hair like her daddy did. He was also old. He had lines in his eyes. Daddy didn't have lines in his eyes. She looked over at the house. It looked like the house in the new picture that Mommy showed her, but it was bigger. It was also gray, not white. It didn't have the same porch either.

"Eve! Evangeline! Get out of the grass, there's snakes!"

She screeched, taking off from the grass and emerging out by the driveway, running to the truck, jumping up and down. Snakes! She hated snakes! More than she hated chickens. "No snakes," she cried, clinging to Bud's knees. She hiccupped, tears staining her cheeks. She cried again. "I don't like them."

"Aw, crap kid, I'm sorry, I was just teasing."

Tim knelt down, offering her a Kleenex. She sniffed and blew her nose. He passed the Kleneex to Bud. "There's no snakes," he said quietly. He ran his thumb under her eyes, wiping more of the tears away. He cocked his head, whispering. "What were you doing out there?"

She could tell him the truth. He seemed like he would keep it between them. She leaned in and whispered into his ear. "I was making a wish." A smile pulled on her lips, like it was a real secret between them. She held her finger to her lips. "Shh."

He mimicked her, holding his finger to his lips, smiling again. He stood up and turned her towards the car, where Bud was getting her seat into the back. "Come on kid, try not to let these yahoos corrupt you."

The big guy leaned down. "What's up Little Eve? Remember me? I'm Tinker."

"Tinker don't freak her out," the tall guy said. "I'm Hastings." He leaned back, sizing her up. "You'll do fine."

"Do fine for what?" she asked, as she climbed into the car, settling into her seat.

"For our secret plan."

"What secret plan?" she giggled.

Tim rolled his eyes. "They're going to pull a prank on the football team, you're not going to do a thing they ask you."

Hastings gestured to her. "But she's so little she can sneak in!"

Bud closed the door and she could hear them fighting outside about how she wasn't going to get used to sneak onto the football field and do whatever it was that Hastings thought they should do. Tinker climbed into the backseat beside her. He smiled. "You like Texas?"

Eve shrugged. She peered out the window, her gaze settling on Tim. He was interesting. He was nice. She wanted to ride a horse and see the pigs and play with Dracula some more. "It's okay," she said, trying not to sound like it was a big deal. It wasn't.

"You ask Santa for stuff for Christmas?"

She thought of the letter, making its way to the North Pole right now. Her heart skipped and she felt her cheeks go all warm. It was her secret. Just hers. Yes, she thought, nodding silently, continuing to look out the window as Hastings and Uncle Bud climbed into the car, Uncle Bud beginning to tell her about how this was a secret and to let him talk to Mommy about it and everything. Also, don't tell Mommy that Grandpa couldn't drive, that was another secret.

I won't tell your secret, Eve vowed, leaning her head to the window, watching the farm pass by as they drove off the land. She looked up to the sunlight, grinning. So long as I get my Christmas wish. She could feel it. It was going to happen. There was something in the air. Her eyes widened, watching as snow began to fall, just a couple of flakes here and there. "It's snowing!" she exclaimed.

Tinker laughed. "Yeah, look at that. Christmas miracle, huh?"

Yes, she thought, nodding. It was a Christmas miracle. If it could snow in Texas, then she could get her wish.


	8. Last Christmas

_**8. Last Christmas I Gave Y**_**_ou My Heart_**

"Hey Tim, Prancer is going to need the vet to take a look at her foot. I think that shoe is infected."

Tim closed the tack room, locking it up. He tried the handle, wiggling it and scowling. Damn thing was too loose. He gestured towards it. "You having problems with this Fours?"

Luke wandered over, his hands in the pockets of his thick barn jacket. It was freaking cold. He tried the handle, shrugging. "At least it's locked. You want me to fix it tomorrow?"

"No, I'll do it." He liked doing the handyman things around the place. He walked over to the stall where Prancer was housed, vaulting over the door. He clicked his tongue, Prancer turning and walking towards him, favoring her front hoof. He clicked his tongue again, running his hand slowly down her leg as he crouched, looking up, his voice soft. "Let me see girl."

Very carefully, Prancer shifted her weight and he lifted her hoof, checking it out. He sighed. Luke knelt beside him, pointing. "It's that recurrent thing from when we got her." Rescued her. Prancer came from a farm that had been shut down after a Texas farm bureau official did an inspection and determined they were neglecting their animals. He'd rescued Prancer. He scowled. Luke shrugged. "I'll call Tina."

Tina was their horse vet, who made enough money from his ranch to buy herself a fancy big house out in Midland. It took her a long time to come out, so it had to be big enough. He nodded. "See if she can come out tomorrow. I'll put some antibiotics in her food tonight."

"I'll get it. You get up to the house."

He smirked. "Avoiding Becky?"

Luke shook his head, but chuckled, standing up and ruffling Prancer's dark topknot. She was a gorgeous dapple gray, with a black mane. He stroked her neck, as Luke shrugged again. "Becky's mom is in town. Becky is on a rampage. She's hiding at Mindy's and I'm hiding here. She thinks its wrong that Becky is still with me and that I'm just you know, a soldier."

"Well that's not a bad thing."

"To her it is. The fact I spend my time off from the Army working with you is the nail in the coffin." Luke shrugged again, smiling at Prancer, as she fixed a big dark eye on him. "I like the horses."

Tim enjoyed the horses too. They were…very interesting creatures. He didn't intend to get into this field but he had and he was glad to find he liked it. It was a lot of work, which was a pain, but at the end of the day, he was his own boss, he made a decent living, and he got to do as he pleased. He made enough to afford about twenty employees, so he no longer did a lot of the muddy tasks. He ran his hand over Prancer's neck again. "Once we get her foot looked at, what do you think of getting some of the Evans School kids over here?"

"Evans School?" Luke frowned. "The autistic school?"

"I think it's supposed to be good for them." He had picked up a flyer when he had to take Stevie to the doctor a few weeks ago for a head cold. Horses as therapy animals. Prancer would be perfect, she loved kids. She was very patient. "I think it might be a good idea." It worked for his one nephew, Ricky, who was on something Tyra called the 'spectrum.' Ricky was on the high end, she told him, but whenever he was with animals, any behavioral issues he'd been having seemed to go right out the window.

"I think that'd be a cool idea."

"I'll look into it." He stepped away from Prancer, leaving the stall. He smiled at her as she returned to her apples. Her favorite snack. He walked down the stable corridor with Luke beside him. "Did you see that girl here earlier?"

"The little one who was running in the grass, yeah, who is she?"

"Evangeline Garrity, Buddy's granddaughter."

"Shit, I didn't think she ever visited."

"Seems to have convinced her mother to let her come here for Christmas." He ran his tongue over his teeth, walking to his truck. He didn't know why he brought that up. He looked at the sky. It was getting dark. He jerked his thumb to the house. "I'm going to head up. Call if there's problems with feeding tonight."

"Sure thing boss."

He scowled. "Don't call me that." He hated when they called him 'boss.' Made him feel uncomfortable. He waved, getting in the truck and drove away, taking the long way around his land towards his house, far away from the working ranch buildings. He wanted it that way on purpose. One was where he worked; the other was where he lived. He parked beside the porch, hopped out, and reached into the pocket of his jacket, where he kept a stash of dog biscuits, tossing one to Dracula, who was sleeping outside. "Silly dog, get inside, it's freezing."

A few minutes later, he wandered into his office, thinking of Eve Garrity. Funny kid. He frowned deeper, feeling his brow turn to a point. That kid was weird. Really, really, really weird. Strange, odd, unique, whatever word you wanted to call it, but Evangeline Garrity was certainly all of them, tied up in a neat little package of a girl who wore pink Ugg boots, a sparkling silver skirt, and a Batman t-shirt. Not to mention her obsession with hockey, her sweet smile, and what he was fairly sure was a bit of a sociopathic tendency.

He loved her.

Try as he might to dislike her, he could totally see how the baby who cooed in his arms when he was visiting Buddy could end up into the little question mark running through the grass near his driveway. There was something…he understood in her, if that's what it was. Maybe they were 'kindred spirits', as Becky would call them. He couldn't help it though. He loved her. He didn't want to like her, because it was Garrity's kid. He didn't want to put up with her, get into her stories, or listen to her talk about…anything. He wanted to go to the stadium, check on Buddy, and get back to work. Not end up babysitting for the five minutes she was on his land.

That whole thing was weird too, he thought, leaning back in his tall 'commander' chair behind the big oak desk he'd acquired at an auction. Becky said it had belonged to an oil baron and now it would belong to a ranch baron. He hadn't told her the new development about his land. He picked up the survey reports a geologist had conducted a couple months ago. "Freaking goldmine," he murmured, studying the words. He didn't make a lot of sense of them, but the gist of it was…he could be wealthy. Rich beyond his dreams. All he had to do was destroy his dream. He set the reports down, staring out the large window and surveyed what he'd spend the last ten years building.

It was his ranch. He smiled to himself, exhausted. He was exhausted. He woke up at four almost every morning. He couldn't believe that there even was a four in the morning. I'm so tired, he groaned, scrubbing his face and lurching forward in the chair to the edge of the desk, picking up a pen to start writing out checks. He hated this day, but Becky kept his schedule and now it was 'check' day. "Feed," he muttered, scribbling his name on the pre-written checks Becky had already put together for him in the binder. He set that aside. He ripped another one off. "Hay….Vet…Payroll…"

"I should take a picture. Tim Riggins working."

He didn't look up as he signed the check for the gas bill. "You know that was funny in high school, but now it's not." He finally glanced up when he saw a bag of something set by his elbow, from the corner of his eye. "What's in there? Poison?"

"Pickles and ice cream," Tyra said, holding a jar of banana peppers. She sat down in the armchair in front of the fireplace, patting the coffee table in front of her. "Come sit. Take a break."

"How'd you get in? I've got security." At that moment, Dracula the basset hound wandered in, lured by the smell of whatever was in the bag, which he guessed was a cheeseburger, and the banana peppers Tyra was eating like chips. He made a face. "That's gross."

She shrugged a shoulder, popping another one into her mouth. "I had them on an Italian salad earlier and now I can't stop eating them. Cravings."

"Your kid has weird cravings." He sat down in the chair opposite her, opening up the cheeseburger. Without Becky and now Tyra, he was certain he'd starve. He forgot to eat these days. He took a bite and tossed a fry to Dracula, who slurped it up. They ate quietly for a minute, Tyra getting up and returning with a bag of chips. He made another face. "Gross."

"Salty, yum." She crumpled up the bag, sticking it between her and the edge of the chair. Her fingers tapped on the edge of the armrests, her gaze settling on him. She smirked again. "So I saw your favorite ex-girlfriend yesterday."

"Well Tyra that's what happens when you look in a mirror."

"No, asshole." She smiled again, her voice softening as her eyes got that gentle quality he only ever saw when she was feeling sentimental. Which was rare. Or when their nephews were around. "I saw Lyla at the grocery store."

Hmm, he was wondering when that subject might come up. He gazed out the window, setting the cheeseburger back down on the paper, leaning into the chair. Dracula eyed the burger. He made a motion and the basset hound was swallowing what remained a moment later. So where was this conversation going? "Yeah, I saw her at Starbucks," he murmured. He rolled his eyes. "Tyra, no."

"Look I just wanted to say that she seems good. Her daughter is precious." Tyra arched an eyebrow again. Waiting to say something. She sighed, holding her hands out. "You want me to say it or are you going to guess?"

I know where you're going with this. He looked over to her. "No," he repeated. I know what I'm doing. I'm not getting involved in any of this. He pushed up to his feet. "Come on Dracula." He wandered to the back door, opening it up and letting the dog run out into what remained of the light snow they'd gotten earlier. That had been something. The little kid was probably wishing for it, having come from Chicago, and here she was and it snowed. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his boots crunching in the frost. Little Eve was sweet. Wandering around in the grass. Very…dreamlike. That's what it had seemed like.

The kid needed a father; he thought that was clear as day. He didn't want to think of someone who would abandon Garrity and that sweet little girl. He closed his eyes. That was one giant fuck-up right there. He just…he was so tired of it all. Of Lyla coming in and out and leaving him in pieces when she left. It got worse. Each time it got worse and he couldn't take it. They'd slept together. She was sad about Buddy being in the hospital, she was stressed out, and when she'd kissed him, he hadn't backed away. He gave her what she wanted which was a release. Wasn't that what he did?

Then a few months later she was on his doorstep again and he snapped. Lyla Garrity ruined his life more often than she made it better. Just when things were getting on track, for the first time ever, there she was again. He closed his eyes tight. I don't want to think about it. He hated thinking about it. That wasn't him, he liked to think. It was the same…evil Tim who was out of jail or trying to cope with Jason's injury or something. The escapist Tim. But in the end…he opened his eyes, staring at nothing, the sun setting over the horizon. Everything glowed. Orange and yellow. He sighed, letting the cool wind pass over him. It felt good. It felt calm.

That's all he ever wanted to feel. Calm.

* * *

><p><em>"We want to do a news story on you."<em>

_"Not interested." Why the hell would anyone want to write a news article on him? He didn't put the phone down though, slightly interested in the idea of someone writing about him. Being interested in him. He scowled. "Why?"_

_"Why not? You're a Dillon celebrity, you were on the fast track to nowhere, but you got into college, and then you dropped out and went down a bad path, and now you've come out the end of the dark tunnel and living the American dream!" the reporter exclaimed, laughing. She spoke before he said anything to that. "I can meet you for coffee to get the details. We'd like to get some pictures, maybe tomorrow?"_

_He'd briefly met the reporter. She was attractive. Competent. Kind of bossy. Clearly, he thought, when she went on to say they'd be there at five tomorrow. The light would be good, for sunset pictures. "I didn't say yes," he said._

_"You will. We'll be there tomorrow." She hung up without even saying thank you. Well then, guess I'm going to be in the newspaper, he thought, setting the phone back down into the cradle. He studied it for a moment, his fingers dropped to it, to call…hell he had no idea who he would call. There were only a few people he even spoke with anymore._

_Gone where the days where everyone was his friend. Where everyone wanted to be him. Maybe all those things they warned him about in high school were true. Some people peaked there and started their downward spiral. Not that he cared. He stepped away from the end table behind his couch, where the phone sat, and wandered into the kitchen to get something to eat before he fed the couple horses, pigs, cows, and goat he'd picked up. He hadn't been interested in a ranch, but…somehow he kind of got involved with it. It was all Becky's fault. She told him to go with her to some auction that was selling horses. He'd gotten there and they were selling the horses to a dog food factory. He'd bought all ten of them after that. Mostly because Becky was bawling; she claimed she didn't know that was the purpose of the auction, but he had doubts._

_He shoved his feet into boots, turning to grab his barn jacket, since it was kind of cold, when there was a knock on his front door. How did he not hear anyone come up? He'd finished the house, but he hadn't done the driveway just yet. "What?" he yelled, walking to it. He glared at the closed door. He didn't want visitors. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He jerked it open, staring at the person on the other side. He had half a mind to slam the door in her face._

_There she was. He narrowed his eyes. Was Buddy sick again? He didn't get a phone call. He was second on Buddy's emergency contact list, if they couldn't get in touch with her. He cocked his head. She seemed nervous, standing on the doorstep, her hands in her pockets. "Hi there," she murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She smiled a little wider. "You seem better."_

_I am not better. I'm still the same grouchy pissed off guy you saw a few months ago. He felt something curdle in his blood at the sight of her. Maybe it was just too much of her at one time, he didn't know. Maybe it was just a long time coming. He hadn't been too thrilled to see her the last time, but that was mostly because each time they said goodbye, it seemed like she was sadder and he was angrier. It was getting old. "What are you doing here? Is Buddy okay?" he asked._

_"My dad's fine, I'm in town checking on him and…" she trailed off, her brow furrowing. She seemed very nervous. Maybe she should be, he thought, unsure what he even meant by that thought. She nibbled her lower lip and lifted her thumbnail up, chewing for a second before she sighed, her voice quiet, while he remained silent. "Can I come inside? I think we need to talk about something."_

_You know what? He stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him. "No," he said. It sounded like a gunshot, he'd been so quiet until now. A firm, solid 'no.' Something he didn't really ever tell her. He shook his head. "No, no that's not a good idea. You're not coming inside."_

_She drew back in surprise, her eyebrows lifting. "Oh…do you have company?"_

_"No, I don't. You're not coming inside. In fact Garrity, you can turn around and march your little butt back to Tennessee or California or wherever the hell it is you live now." He drew up with every bit of strength he had, his nose curling up as he sneered, words he'd thought for so long now pouring out of him. He finally had the motivation to say them, things he'd kind of thought offhandedly for years and now they were finally coming out, all because she'd shown up again. "You can go back there, because I don't want you here anymore. I don't want you calling me, I don't want you coming to see me, I don't want you anymore Lyla. Get out of my life."_

_It was harsh. It had to be harsh. She stared, her mouth falling open. "Oh my God," she breathed, horrified._

_A tiny bit of sorrow ached in his gut. It would threaten to overtake him if he didn't keep going. He threw his arms to the side and she flinched, stepping away. He stared for a second. "Did you think I was going to hit you?" he breathed. How dare she? I would never…he gaped, as she looked guilty. "Jesus Garrity, what kind of a monster do you think I am?"_

_Her head shook slightly. "I don't know," she breathed._

_Well fine. You want a monster? You get a monster. "I hate you," he spat out. He sneered again. "You do nothing but ruin lives Lyla. You crawled into mine and you ruined it. You ruined my friendship with Jason in high school, you did this!"_

_She laughed, amused. "I did this? I ruined your life? The guy who went to jail! The guy who broke the law! How the fuck did I do that?"_

_"Because you left!" he shouted. He couldn't believe he just said that. He didn't believe it. It had nothing to do with her. It wasn't her fault. It was just to get her to go away. She blinked. "You left me!" he shouted again. He let out a harsh laugh, kind of a sob. He pointed to the road. "You got on your bus and you drove away and I had nothing! I had nothing here for me and yeah, I broke the law, but I wanted you to stay, you wanted to leave and you left and you ruined it! You ruined the plan!"_

_"The plan was when we were in high school! We were never supposed to have that plan!"_

_"Yes we were! You, me, and Jason were supposed to…" He clung to that for so long. That was his lifeline. His way to make something of himself and it was all shit. He had his house and he had the beginnings of his ranch, but Jason wasn't around and all Lyla did was cause heartache. He shook his head, whispering. "All you do is ruin my life. You come into it as you please and leave like it doesn't matter. Every single time you come here and you want something of me, it hurts. It hurts Lyla! I'm sick of it. So stop it. Get out of my life."_

_"Get out of your life?" she echoed._

_Yes. Get out of my life. Stop coming into it so I can get over you. "Every time I get over you, you come back and you ruin it again and I have to spend more time. It gets worse and worse and I'm done."_

_"I can't believe you're saying these things."_

_And I'm done saying these things. I'm done with it. I'll help Buddy, I love the old man, but I am not going to deal with you again if I can help it. He shook his head, whispering. "Go ruin someone else's life for a change. Get off my property."_

_It was her turn to sneer. "What are you going to do? Call the cops?"_

_No, I won't call the cops. He shook his head, sad again. It was so fucking sad and he was sick of being sad. For once in his life he wanted to be happy. Lyla Garrity just wasn't going to be involved in that. "You break everything you touch," he whispered. She broke Jason. She broke him. She broke her parents. He laughed, feeling extra mean right about now. Just dig the nail in deep Tim. Gut her. She'll never come back. She'll finally leave you alone. Have her life. Stay out of Dillon. She didn't belong in Dillon, this wasn't for her. She made a mockery of it. She tried to get him to stop it, to go to college, be something he wasn't. She'd do it again too, if eh wasn't careful. Let her change him. He wasn't interested in change. "Guess I'm lucky it wasn't my neck, like that other guy." _

_The slap stung. He felt the pain radiate from his cheek to his jaw and up to his eye socket. That was a good hard slap, he thought, running his tongue over his teeth, making sure they were all there. He stared at her for a moment and she drew back again, this time her fingers were closed and he felt his teeth rattle just a bit, copper flooding into the back of his mouth where he'd bitten the inside of his cheek. He ran his tongue over it again, glaring at her. "Fuck you," she whispered, her face ashen white. _

_He smirked, arching an eyebrow. "You first Lyla."_

_"Why are you saying these things?"_

_"To get you to leave. Leave me alone. Just leave. Go live your life. Leave me to mine and never come back into it again." He shook his head slightly. "I'm nothing to you Lyla."_

_"Stop your pity party."_

_"It's not a pity party. I'm your high school sweetheart who won't ever leave. You just want a good fuck when you're feeling sad. I've already got Tyra." There, that ought to do it. He smiled again, nasty. She seemed devastated at that comment. "I don't need you too. So leave."_

_She shook her head again, breathing. "You are not Tim."_

_"No, I'm Tim. I just haven't said it is all." He felt sick. His stomach hurt when she was around because each time she left she made it worse. If she'd stayed, if she'd stuck to the plan, they wouldn't have this. He wouldn't hurt so much when she went away. Wouldn't have to start over again. Wouldn't get this hopes up that that was the time she'd stay with him. He was done with the stringing around. Lyla needed people when she felt sad. He wanted to make sure she was good and gone, even if it meant destroying what they had. It didn't make any difference to him._

_She stepped back again, still looking at him. "Goodbye."_

_"Goodbye." A part of his heart ached. Say you're sorry. Apologize. Forget everything. It wasn't true. He watched her walk away. There was something she was hiding. He wasn't sure why she was back, but she was. He watched her get into her car, looking at him for a moment. Tears were falling down her face and she was sobbing, before she climbed into the car. _

_And then she drove away. He watched the car drive off into the distance. It was nothing but dust in the distance. He closed his eyes, feeling something he might have called tears. He blinked quickly and they went away. It was over. Lyla Garrity was gone. I won't have to hurt again. I can finally move on, he thought, feeling his shoulders deflate. He closed his eyes and slumped against the wall. This was his land. His ranch. His house. It was his dream. No more Jason. No more Lyla. No more hunting ranch for the three of them. They were kids. They weren't kids anymore. People changed. _

_Lyla came into his life and messed it up. Just when he thought things were good, she appeared and he hurt all over when she was gone. This would end it and he could finally have what he wanted. Not what she wanted. Not what Jason wanted. Not even what Tyra wanted. What he wanted. He turned around and opened the door, stepping into the house. He let it close behind him. And he was well and truly alone now._

* * *

><p>That was almost seven years ago, he thought, wandering through the grass. He stopped at an old tree, frowning a little. It had knots all in the roots at its base. Part of him wanted to dig it up, because the roots were on their way to his plumbing system and he really didn't want to have to tear them out when they got to the pipes. "The hell," he muttered, seeing a large white square stuck between two of the roots. He wandered over to it and knelt, carefully removing a large piece of white card paper.<p>

This was Eve's list, he realized, recognizing the handwriting from where she'd shown him earlier at the football field. That was the saddest thing ever, when she told him she wanted a dad. And hockey skates and a hockey stick. It was so childish. It reminded him of Stevie, who was about her age. A couple years older, but still. He felt kind of guilty, staring at her card, which said 'To Santa. And Elves." She'd misspelled 'elves' into 'ellfs.' So much for that top of her class thing she was telling him about earlier, he thought with a tiny smile.

He stood and sighed, looking at it again. It wouldn't get to Santa. There was no Santa, but…but maybe…. "Jesus Tim." Maybe he could give her what she wanted. The kid had no dad. Her mother was…well he wasn't sure what to make of Lyla, but he knew in his heart, no matter his feeling for her, she was a wonderful mother. He could maybe do something. He flicked it open, wondering if it was what most kids wanted. A dollhouse. A hockey stick. Skates. Maybe a bike or a pony or a dog. He looked down at it, reading the rather neat handwriting for a first-grader.

_"Dear Santa- I have been good this year. I helped people and I was nice. Mommy says I am the best. I do my chores. I have a wish. I wish for a Daddy. I don't have one and I want one. I think they are awesome. I think Mommy is sad. I want Mommy to be happy. I don't want her to cry. I want this a lot. I wish very hard for it. I want my daddy. If he is here. If he is not here, I want a daddy who can ride horses. Who has dark hair. Who smiles. I want a daddy to play sports with me. I want a daddy to love mommy. He must like dogs. He has to like pizza. I want him to make mommy laugh. Mommy does not laugh a lot. I want this very much please. I also want new hockey skates, hockey stick, a TV, a new bike, and no school. But I want a daddy. I wish for it hard. Thank you. Eve. P.S. I hope Rudolph likes carrots. I will put some out for him."_

"What are you reading?" He closed his eyes, folding the paper against his chest. Holy shit. Just the saddest thing I think I have ever seen in my life. He didn't want to show Tyra, but she pulled it to herself anyway, scanning it. "Oh my God that is so sad," she whispered. She shook her head, her voice thick. "She just wants a dad? What the hell is Lyla thinking? She should at least tell her the truth."

"What, that her dad is a deadbeat who abandoned them when Lyla told him she was pregnant?" That's what Buddy said. He'd found out Lyla was pregnant when she was probably almost due. Buddy had a party at the bar, like a baby shower but Lyla wasn't there. People brought things and he gave them free beer. On a whim, he went to the baby store and he got a blanket. Mindy told him that was sweet, that parents always needed blankets because kids got sick on them a lot. He didn't put a sticker on it or anything, so no one knew it came from him. He scowled, muttering. "I wish I knew who this guy was. I'd kill him."

Tyra seemed amused, her eyebrow lifting somewhat before he face softened, smoothing out and she whispered. "I thought you hated Lyla."

"I don't hate her," he muttered. I just don't talk to her. She makes things difficult. It's easier when she isn't around. Life was better for him. No drama. No issues. Just…he just worked a lot. He had a few girlfriends over the years. He told Bud he had one, maybe to piss off Lyla, he didn't know. He didn't though. It was easier to tell people so they'd stop trying to set him up or make fun of him or something. He looked at the letter again. Although right now I am finding it difficult to sympathize with her. Keeping secrets. He wondered if she dated anyone. At least give the kid a stepdad.

Tyra stepped away, guilt on her face. He scowled. What was that about? "Nothing," she muttered, even though he didn't ask her a question. She turned around, her hands at her sides. She looked funny to him, standing there, pregnant. A wedding ring on her finger. She tucked her hair behind her ear and then crossed her arms. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"Say what?"

"I wanted to…to do some checking and then I realized it was none of my business." She pursed her lips. She waited a moment. He could wait forever. He had endless time. She looked away; the sun had set and it was below freezing, but he could be out here all night if he had to be. She groaned, turning again to face him. "Tim I saw the picture of the little girl Lyla had on her phone. You met her. Do you seriously think her father abandoned them?"

"My dad did. Your dad did." That's what happened sometimes. Mothers did it too. Look at his mother. He scowled. "What are you talking about?" He had a sick feeling start to settle in the pit of his stomach. I think I know where Tyra is going with this and I don't want to hear it. He'd listen though; it was Tyra after all.

It took a moment. She laughed, throwing her arms into the air, like she was shaking his head. "Tim it's clear as day to me when I saw that picture! Her dad didn't abandon them. Her father never knew about them because I would put good money that her father is you!"

There it was. That's what he thought she'd said. He narrowed his eyes. That was crazy. Lyla would tell him. She might hate him, but she'd tell him. He shook his head, whispering. "No I'm not."

"Look it's…it's a crazy idea I had, okay? I'm sorry I brought it up, I wasn't going to say anything but then I read that letter…" she gestured to the letter and then folded her hands over her stomach, whispering, almost to herself. "I just…I've been that girl, wanting a father….I just…I don't want another kid to feel that miserable." She lifted her head, smirking. "And that's why I wasn't going to bring it up, because I know the pain it would cause you and I just…I wasn't going to say anything."

Well it's crazy. Lyla would tell me. She knows I didn't have parents. She knows…she…he trailed off in his thoughts. No she didn't. Lyla didn't…Lyla…Lyla hated him. She really hated him now. He deserved a lot of it for what he said, but…he closed his eyes. Okay, let's see here…seven years ago was when he severed the connection. Eve was six…six plus nine months…maybe ten months, that's what it really was actually and… He shook his head. "I'm not doing the math, Lyla would have told me." He scowled. "She tells people it's an ex-boyfriend."

Tyra narrowed her eyes again, whispering. "Maybe it really is an ex-boyfriend. You've seen pictures of her at Buddy's. You've met her now. Tell me you didn't wonder once today."

Okay. Fine. He looked away. She pointed at him. "Ha! I knew it!"

"I didn't…just once!" He stormed by her, into the house, and grabbed a bottle of Jack from the pantry shelf. He needed something stiff right now. He poured a couple fingers, but didn't drink it, dropping the glass onto the counter where it rattled around, sending the drink over the edges. He pointed to her, glaring again. "It was just once, when she smiled!"

She snorted. "I don't know what that looks like Tim. It's been so long."

"I'm happy!"

"You don't need to defend yourself to me. All I'm saying is I thought it when I saw the pictures." She shrugged again, her voice quiet. "But maybe I'm wrong. It has happened, contrary to popular belief."

Yeah, you bet your ass you're wrong. Tim took a deep breath, holding it to calm himself a bit. He sipped the drink for a second and set it back down again. It might match up. I'm not…I don't know when Buddy's heart attack was, when she came back. I don't know. Besides, they were safe. They were always safe, Lyla took care of it. She said she didn't trust him. He looked over at Tyra again, whispering. "I'm not Eve's father."

Tyra picked up her purse and car keys. She walked around the edge of the counter and kissed his cheek, patting his chest. Her dark eyes met his. They seemed sad. She shook her head slightly. "God Tim. I hope I'm wrong this time. I just don't think I am…call it a mother's intuition now instead of just plain gut feeling. I'd look into it, just to make sure." She smirked. "I don't know what happened between you and Garrity, but you guys have barely shared ten minutes of conversation in seven years. I don't know what you said to her or what she did to you, but maybe I'm glad she hasn't been around to hurt you. I just wonder if maybe…" She shrugged again, going in for the kill shot, whispering. "Maybe she took what you probably told her about staying away far too seriously and didn't take it to just herself."

I don't know what you're talking about. "You're wrong," he whispered.

"Good night, I'll see you tomorrow." She left, with another kiss on the cheek, and he waited until her car drove away before he moved from the rooted spot next to the countertop. Tim wasn't sure where he was going or what he was doing, but he went to his phone and he called the only person he thought might know in this situation. I am not going to give this a moment's thought after this. This was proving Tyra wrong. I'm not that kid's father. He waited for it to ring before the person answered.

"This is Jason."

"It's Rigs. I've got a crazy question for you."

"No, I will not come to Mexico to bail you out again." He chuckled. Even Six laughed on the other end. "No but seriously though, what's up? How's the ranch?"

"Ranch is good. So my crazy question and it's just…it's just something stupid." He waited a moment, kind of preparing himself to really hear it out loud. It was proving Tyra wrong. It wasn't true. This letter to Santa was a sad, lonely little girl who wanted what most little girls wanted when they were alone. They wanted a daddy to help them and hug them and make it feel better. That's all. She wanted her mommy to not be sad? That hurt him. He didn't like hearing that, but he wasn't involved in Lyla's life anymore. She should go get laid or something. He took a deep breath. "Lyla's kid? You know her?"

Jason made an odd sound before he coughed. "Yes."

"You know…I met her when she was a baby and Lyla and I never…I was never…" he sighed. I'm not getting into this. We were never in the city at the same time. Buddy gave him warning and he left, he had business meetings in Austin or Houston or he just locked himself away at his ranch and didn't go to town while she was there. It wasn't like she came by often. Even when she was in Dillon, a few people noted that she never brought her daughter. He was starting to wonder about that now. Tyra was wrong, he immediately interjected. He spit it out, because Six was waiting. "I was never around and stuff, um…I just…today I met her and I'm just wondering…" he stared out the window, gazing at the barn in the distance. Dracula was asleep at his feet, waiting for when he finally went upstairs to follow him. Spit it out Riggins. "So I was wondering…"

"Just ask it Tim." You know what about about to ask, he thought briefly, before he finally said it.

"Is it crazy or…do you think I might be Eve's father?" He couldn't bring himself to say dad. Dad was familiar. Dad was the person who read to you and tucked you in and threw a football around. Father was formal. Father yelled. Father punished. Father wasn't Dad.

Jason waited a moment before he whispered. "You have to ask me."

Ask you? I just did. "I did," he said. He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

He spoke again, earnest, urgent. "I can't…I just…you have to ask me Tim. You want an answer you need to ask me, that's all I can say. Otherwise I have to let you go."

Ask…he frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about, I just asked."

"You asked if I thought. Well I think a lot of things but I don't know a lot of things. You have to ask." He groaned. "Tim you're not my old friend. You're not the only one I make promises to if you get my drift. Ask."

Oh my God. He sank down against the kitchen table, his knees giving out. He stared at the reflection of his face in the glass door. Promises. Friends. He closed his eyes tight, not wanting to look at himself. He was afraid of what he might see. "Am I Eve Garrity's father?" he whispered. Don't say it. Just don't say it Jason. Lie. It's not true. She'd have told me.

A very long moment passed between them. It seemed to last forever. In a moment, Tim was standing in the doorway of Jason's hospital room. That's what it felt like. That moment where he was finally seeing what he'd been so scared to see for weeks. His best friend. Broken. He cringed, closing his eyes tight when Jason said what he hadn't wanted to hear. What he wouldn't have heard if he hadn't found that stupid Santa letter.

"Yes."

It shocked him. Right to his core. He wanted to be sick. Oh God, oh God, oh God. This was the worst he'd ever felt in his life. Jail didn't match up to his. That had taken the spot before this moment. He closed his eyes so tight he was seeing red stars. He nodded and dug his hands up into his hair, nodding again, but Jason didn't hear him. It was muted in the background, Jason sobbing and apologizing and saying he didn't want it to be like this, he was trying to protect Lyla and to protect him and he failed and he was sorry. He was so sorry and he made her a promise he wouldn't say it unless he was asked. He just didn't think it would get this far. He was so sorry.

I don't care, he thought, finally opening his eyes. He hated what he saw looking back. "Thank you Jason," he whispered. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes again. "Thank you."

"Timmy please don't hate me."

"I don't hate you." We all made promises to people. I promised to be your best friend a long time ago and I screwed that one up. Jason clearly made a promise to Lyla and he hadn't broken it, if what he said was true. He cocked his head slightly, whispering. "Did you ever lie to me? Like…ever?"

"No, but it doesn't matter. It was all a lie, not telling you. I told her I wouldn't lie to you if you asked. If you…I wouldn't."

Well that was something. "I have to go," he breathed.

"Timmy she loves you so much. She loves Eve so much. Please, whatever you do…just don't let Eve see. Just know she was scared and confused…" Jason sighed, laughing and sobbing again. "Fuck. It doesn't matter, does it? You're going to destroy her."

"No." He wasn't going to destroy her, whatever that meant. He was going to have a conversation with her. He sighed again. "Goodbye Jason."

"Timmy wait!"

No. Tim clicked off the phone, setting it aside. He studied it for a moment and then glanced down at Dracula, who was peering up, sensing the tension. He sighed, looking back at the reflection in the mirror. He glanced at the door, whispering. "You might want to step back." Dracula got up, clearly unnerved, and walked to the stairs, waiting for him to come up them. Tim looked at the face again, staring back. He didn't know what you could call what he was feeling. He wasn't sure what it was himself.

He picked up the letter to Santa and read it again. Eve didn't know it but she was describing him. The only thing was, he made Mommy sad. He took a deep breath, set it down, and let out a yell that shook the house, as he slammed his fist into the wall, so angry he couldn't see straight. He sobbed and fell backwards against the wall, slumping down and hitting his head back against it, staring at the ceiling. The dog came over to lick at his bleeding, bruised, and most likely broken, knuckles. He closed his eyes, shaking silently.


	9. Santa's Secret Stuff

_**9. Santa's Secret Stuff**_

"You what!?"

"It was nothing baby."

"It was nothing!?" she practically screamed, her face white as a sheet. She couldn't believe the fury. I have never been this angry in my entire life, she swore. She gripped the edge of the butcher block in the center of the kitchen, her teeth grit. A muscle ticked in her jaw. She tried to keep her voice even. "You decide to tell me this two days later, Daddy? You decide to tell me that you not only let Tim talk with Eve, but you let him drive her alone, in his truck, to his land, where they were alone together until Bud decided to pick her up? Then you decided," she continued, because that could not be stated enough. There was more to the deception. "You decided it would be a good idea, no, wait, a great idea, it would be the best idea in the world to have my daughter lie to me and keep it a secret!?"

What the hell was he thinking? She couldn't believe the gall. This was beyond anything Buddy had ever did. In six years he had dropped hints, he'd suggested, and he'd even gone so far as to purposefully invite Tim to the bar when she was going to have a small get together for Eve and some of her old friends from Dillon High and their children. She'd nipped that in the bud and chalked it up to him in a bad head space. This wasn't a bad head space, she thought, her brow furrowed in concern. Or maybe it was. "Daddy what were you thinking?" she breathed.

Buddy lifted his head. He had the same determined expression on his face that he'd had when she was a girl and she'd dared to defy him. He lifted his finger, shaking it at her like she was thirteen again. "You listen to me Lyla Garrity. This is my house. I won't have you talk to me like that in my house."

She closed her eyes. Fair enough. "Daddy, explain it, please," she begged. This was worse than beyond anything she could imagine. She knew Eve was hiding something from her the past couple of days. She was giggling a bit and turning pink. Eve was a terrible liar. Except when she wanted to be a good one. But Eve wanted to tell her something and she was hiding it. So she'd confronted Buddy and he'd gone ahead and told her everything. She felt her shoulders fall again. "Why?"

He walked to the fridge, his limp heavy again. "I…I didn't want to tell you."

"Obviously."

"No, not about Tim and Eve, but…" He gestured to his knee. He shrugged again. "Sometimes it goes numb and…and I didn't want to drive when it was going numb. I wait it out. It goes away. It's just…normal. But…" he grew determined again. "Lyla she is my granddaughter and if you could see her…she tells everyone what she wants for Christmas and it's not a dolly or a bike or even a pony. You take your time on telling him and figuring it out, but don't get angry at me that I decided to take things into my hands." He glared at her, his voice soft. Sad. "I might have some problems now but I'm still Buddy Garrity."

Oh Daddy. I'm so sorry, she thought, walking towards him. She wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes tight. I didn't know it was this bad. "Daddy I just want you better," she murmured, squeezing him harder. She swallowed the lump in the back of her throat, lifting her eyes to the ceiling. She shook her head, whispering, getting back to the topic at hand. "Daddy I got myself in a big mess right now." It was the first time she'd admitted that.

Why was she so terrified of Eve seeing Tim? The more she kept her away, the more she purposefully put dividers between them and kept her hidden, he was going to figure it out. She wiped at her eyes, stepping away. I guess I'm angry he just didn't tell me. Buddy handed her a Kleenex and she wiped at her face, blowing her nose. He hung his head a little. "I know I didn't do it right, so I'm sorry. I shouldn't have had Eve lie to you."

I think that might be what I'm most upset about. Tim was going to find out in the next two weeks. She was so scared of when that would happen. I guess there shouldn't be anymore of this, she thought, lifting her head again. "He hasn't come to the house," she chuckled, trying to make light of it. She shrugged. "Maybe he didn't figure it out." Maybe Tyra didn't figure it out, didn't tell him. She wiped at her face, shaking her head again. Something was sitting in the back of her mind. "Where is Eve now?"

"Bud took her to Tinker's. They're playing video games."

"He still over in the East Dillon area, by the old high school?" They had torn down East Dillon High after the merger, but they kept the field as a bit of a memorial. The city had taken it over and turned it and the old fieldhouse there into a recreation center. The lot where the high school had been was a park. She picked up her keys and her bag.

Buddy nodded. He hesitated and then sighed again. "Sweetie I have to say…I'm sorry you found out like this and all, but…" He reached for his phone and turned it towards her. It was a picture he'd taken of Tim and Eve at the field the other day. Tim was actually laughing and Eve was beaming at him. There was another, of Tim helping Eve with her boot. Lyla felt tears prick in her eyes. I wish I didn't see this, she thought, turning the phone to her father. He reached for her hand again, squeezing hard. "Billy said that Tim hasn't smiled like that in awhile. Eve was telling him about hockey and asking questions on if he knew who you were. She tripped and was laughing and being herself. Tim thought she was hilarious. Billy said he actually meant it too. I think he likes her."

Bud had commented about something similar the other night. Her first sign that something was off. He'd been as secretive and terrible at lying about it as Eve had been. The scary thing was, Buddy and her were the two best liars in the family. She hugged her dad again. "Thank you." She pulled away and then gathered her things, going to her car.

She climbed into it and thought suddenly of Jason. Usually he talked to her a couple times a week. He hadn't called this week at all. Huh. She hit speaker and backed out of the driveway, listening to it ring. "Jason," he chirped.

"Hey it's Lyla."

"Oh. Hi." He suddenly changed. Became monosyllabic. He hesitated. "Um, I can't talk right now. I'm working. How…how is Dillon?" She frowned. She swore it sounded like he flinched. "You…you talk to anyone yet?"

"You mean Tim? Not really. Why?" She waited, not telling him about Eve and Tim's little meet cute at the hands of her father. She scowled. "Jason what's wrong? Is everything okay with the kids? With Erin?" Jason stuttered. He was definitely hiding something. He said something about how everything was fine, he was just tired and had a lot of work. Said something about the weather. Her mind was racing. Jason was never like this. Jason…Jason…she took a deep breath, her hands gripping the steering wheel. "Jason," she interrupted. He stopped some rambling about Noah's Christmas pageant. She paused at a red light, taking a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second. Her voice softened, deadly. "Jason did you talk to Tim?"

Everything went quiet. The only sound was a faint static from the speaker and the car engine. The light went green, but she didn't move, the only one around. She closed her eyes again. Finally, like a gunshot in the silence, Jason spoke. "Yes."

Okay. "What did you say?" Lyla you know what he said.

And then her whole world went kind of black. He sighed, relieved to get it off his chest. "Lyla he knows. He knows. Tim knows."

Well then. She disconnected without saying another word, did a U-turn in the middle of the street, and hit the accelerator, speeding as fast as she could towards the other side of town. Eve could sit with Tinker and Bud playing video games or planning a prank against the Dillon football team, which she knew they were working on. She had to get to Tim before anything else could happen. The longer he stayed silent on it, the worse his reaction would end up being. This was Tim Riggins 101. Lock yourself away and hide from the pain. Until it took you over completely.

I've never been to his ranch, she thought, but she knew the way. About a half hour later, her tires squealed to a stop in front of a barn and she left the car door open, dinging angrily, as she ran into the large structure, where there were two men she recognized vaguely from some Dillon Panthers football poster at some point in her life. They were holding a rope tied to either end of a rather angry young horse's bridle. "Where is Tim?" she demanded, out of breath.

"Tim?" the one guy echoed.

"Riggins! Where the hell is he?" she demanded, storming through the barn. A woman who was tending to a pretty gray horse's foot looked up. She leaned against the stall door. "Where is Tim Riggins?"

The woman set down the horse's foot. "I'm just the vet, I have no idea, um, but I saw him heading towards the east pasture. It's just out there, a fence is down, some cattle got loose."

Thank you. She nodded in acknowledgment and went back to her car, stopping in her tracks when she saw Tyra and Becky Sproles coming out of an office. Tyra gasped at the sight of her. "Oh my God. Lyla," she exclaimed.

Lyla drew up every ounce of strength she could muster. "Tim?" she demanded.

Becky squinted. "Hi Lyla." She seemed standoffish. Clearly she knew, Lyla judged. She gestured to the pasture. "Tim is working. Can I help you?"

"I'm fine, thank you." She shoved her sunglasses on, yelling over her shoulder as she walked towards her car, almost calm right now. "You can tell Tim if I don't find him in the next fifteen minutes that I'll be waiting at his house." She knew the way to the house at least. She got into the car and backed away, a crowd now forming and watching the crazy ex-girlfriend drive away. I'm sure I'll be the talk of the watercooler. All of Dillon would know within seconds. She took a back way, making her way through Tim's land, the SUV bouncing over the gravel, grass, and dirt way until she stopped beside his house.

She climbed out, took a seat on the porch step, and waited patiently. She smirked as the blue truck came out of nowhere, squealing and engine revving as angrily as the owner driving it. He was doing a good 50 on his own property, hitting the accelerator so hard the tires could have had smoke coming from them if it weren't for the large cloud of dust. He jumped out, slamming the door and marched towards her. "Get off my land!" he shouted.

"No," she said, not moving. She looked up from her perch, her arms draped over her knees. She smirked again, all the strength she'd mustered finding its way through her. This was her turn to be the one in charge. This was now on her terms, as everything in the last six years had been on her terms and was completely unraveling in the span of two weeks. All it took was Eve to bring it up after school one normal afternoon and her child was someone different entirely now, they were in Dillon, and Jason, who had kept silent for six years, was the one who finally confirmed the news.

This is on my terms, she vowed, looking up at him as he glared down at her. She thought she'd seen him at his angriest, but this…it was a mix of furious and at the same time…resigned. He was resigned to it, which was just sad, she thought, waiting for him to calm. He would. He turned away from her, his hands on his hips. He lifted his hand to run over his face, his back turned to her. His shoulders were hanging down and he finally dropped his head, an exhaustive sigh escaping. He turned, and his face had lost its anger from a moment before, now his eyes seemed sunken and he looked tired. "Why?" he breathed.

All the control she had on the situation disappeared in that moment. She didn't expect him to ask that. She closed her eyes and pushed her hands on her knees, lifting herself up, still standing on the step so she was at least a head taller than him when he moved closer to her. "Why not," she echoed. She smiled sadly, her arms crossed over her chest. "It doesn't matter anymore Tim. You know now. Any reason I give you…you're going to say it was unnecessary."

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he asked. He narrowed his eyes, disgusted. "She's my…" he paused. He shook his head slightly, glancing down. Daughter, just say it, she thought. Accept it. He looked up again. He was tortured. His entire life was different now, just by virtue of that news. He could never be carefree again, she thought. He shook his head again. "I had to find out from Jason. My best friend, who's been lying to me for six years Lyla. Buddy? Your brother…hell, who else knows? My brother know? Tyra? The entire freaking city of Dillon, Texas probably knew before me."

I'm sorry. She closed her eyes. That wouldn't matter now. "I have no excuses for keeping her from you other than you were awful," she said. She sneered at him, her arms tightening across her chest. He drew back, surprised. Yes Tim, it's time to hear what you don't want to hear. The Reason. She snorted. "Don't pretend like you don't know. You were horrible to me, saying what you said. I know you were angry and you think that I ruined your life or whatever, but you don't seriously believe that do you? You were protecting yourself and your feelings by making me feel awful about myself. Until I realized maybe you were right. I was tired of coming into your life and feeling just as sad and miserable that you were never amounting to anything."

"Shut up," he whispered.

"Oh now you have," she laughed. That's what he was pissed about? Now he wasn't that same guy. Fine. I can give you the benefit of the doubt there. She shook her head, snorting. She was grinning. Pissed as hell at him now. It upset everything. All her plans, him figuring it out. I was so stupid. She frowned, upset with herself. "Now you're different. You're respectable and you're successful and you've made something of yourself, but forgive me for thinking the man six years ago who looked like a drug addict and didn't sleep and did nothing but drink for days and nights on end, who had no goals and desire other than to build a house? I was not interested in telling him he was a father after you completely went after me and destroyed any chance of friendship we'd ever have." She snorted again, her brow wrinkled as she shouted at him. "You know what Tim? You could think I ruined your life and everything, you could want me out of it, but you didn't have to say what you said, you know? Plenty of people break up with their ex high school sweethearts and they don't say what you said."

She took a deep breath, on a roll, but Tim interrupted. "You were going to tell me?" he asked. He blinked. He stepped towards her, his hands still on his hips. He furrowed his brow, glaring. "You were actually going to tell me?"

Duh. "Why do you think I came back?" She cocked her head, whispering. "Why do you think I actually came back here? It wasn't to break your heart and ruin your life. I was going to tell you. You decided to end things and I decided in that moment you were never going to be a part of my child's life so long as you were like that." She pursed her lips. "I may have gone too far."

"Yeah, I would say so, hiding her from me and making people lie."

"I never made them lie, they were free to tell you when they felt like it." She smirked. "I can't believe Jason took this long. What'd he do? Find the loophole? I put it there for him to get through one day. Didn't know it would take six years before he had you ask him."

"You never let me see her. How was I supposed to know?" He squinted, whispering. "She doesn't even know about me."

"She knows she has a father." Lyla pursed her lips. How far should she go right now? She lifted her eyes, her voice quiet. "She knows Tim. She knows he's alive and he's not dead. She knows he lives far away in Texas and he used to be a friend of Mommy's. She wants to meet him. She wants to love him. She wants him to be the hero and the prince in her dreams that she thinks all daddies are. She wants to read to you and have you read to her. She wants to play hockey and teach you. She wants to hear stories about how you were the best football player in all Dillon. How you loved mommy and you loved her so much that she was born from all that love," she spat.

The irony was there was no love. It wasn't love that created Eve. It was a couple of mistakes, forgetfulness, and one sad, pathetic night together when she wanted to feel good about herself. He seemed to see it, given by his harsh laugh and sneer. "You told her we were in love?" he whispered.

She cocked her head. "Don't be that naïve," she whispered. She lifted her chin, holding what dignity she might still have aloft. "She doesn't know anything about us. She knows you know Jason. She knows you live in Texas, but she doesn't know that the guy who was smiling and laughing with her at the football field is her father." Lyla took a deep breath. Now it came. She closed her eyes. "But I will tell her."

Tim drew up. "No," he blurted. His face went white. He shook his head quickly. "No, you're not going to tell her."

"Yes I am."

"No, you're not."

"Yes," she growled, walking towards him, so they were toe-to-toe. She glared up. This was her choice. "I am going to tell her Tim. She is six. She wants a dad for Christmas and while she might not get that, at least she'll get the truth. I wanted to tell you myself. That's why we were going to come here tomorrow. To talk to you about it. Have you meet her in a controlled setting, where I know what is being said to her and I know your reaction and I can prepare!"

Tim laughed. "Newsflash Garrity, your life has never been one you could prepare for." He turned in a circle, his arms over his chest. He spun on his heel, gravel cracking. He blinked. "Are you sure?"

What? "Huh?"

"Are you sure she's mine?"

"Oh my God." Lyla walked by him, going towards her car. I'm not dignifying that with a response. She opened the door, turning to face him as he hurried after her. She shook her head, too tired to fight that battle. She heaved a sigh, meeting his eyes for the first time since he came tearing up to the house. He was as tired as her, but…he seemed excited at the same time. She smiled, in spite of herself, and whispered. "I didn't tell you because I was scared of how you'd react. I…I planned and I manipulated and I did what I do Tim. I handle things the only way I can in the situation and the situation called for me to keep her from you. I didn't want you to feel your life was ruined." Tears crept into her voice and she tried to hold them back, but couldn't. They began to trickle down her face and she could hardly understand herself. "I didn't want her to have her dad hate her on sight because she was part of the woman who destroyed his life, who always makes him feel bad. You claimed you were getting things on track and the last thing I wanted to do was get you off track, which tell me Tim, would you have been happy about finding out you had a baby with me? You didn't want her anymore than you wanted me."

He smiled sadly, his voice cool. Of course he'd have a response. "You didn't give me a chance," he whispered. He smiled sadly. "You took it from me."

And that's where her guilt settled hard in her stomach. It threatened to kill her most days, when she let herself think about this day. It never turned out this way in her head. She wasn't sure how it ever turned out, she forbid herself to think that far ahead. And now…well she did take it from him. They'd never know and…and I'm sorry for that. "I can't undo it, Tim," she whispered. She closed her eyes, turning her face from him as she sank into the front seat of her car, reaching for the door. She lifted it back up to him. He wasn't stopping her from leaving. She hiccuped. "She's going to know who you are no matter what I want now. I just…" she trailed off, closing her eyes tight. The tears trickled down her face and she hiccuped again, unable to hear herself talk. "I don't know what you want now."

Did he want to be her father? He wouldn't say it, she'd noticed that. He stopped himself from saying 'daughter.' She was terrified of this moment for that reason alone. What if she told him later on and he didn't want anything to do with her? Eve would be devastated. His response surprised her, but she didn't know why. "Let me spend time with her," he said. She shook her head, but he was talking over her silent protests. "You owe me Lyla. I own you now. You took her from me. I had to figure it out and ask Jason. You lied to me. Everyone lied to me. I get what I want now." He sneered. "This is far from over."

This was far from over. She was torn between letting Eve know him and still keeping it vague until she knew what his emotional state was right now. She lifted her eyes again and took a deep breath. Garrity, you can't have it both ways. You can't want him involved but never let him near her. You can't tell him and then get mad at him for not wanting to deal with her. She bit her lower lip and glanced at the steering wheel. She swallowed hard, whispering. "Sunday she was supposed to come here anyway…I'll bring her." She looked up, dead serious. "But you're not going to tell her a word about it. You're going to be the fun Mr. Tim she can't stop talking about right now."

He looked pained. "Lyla."

"You need to figure this out."

"I just found out she was…" he paused. He shook his head hard. "I mean…that I'm…I'm…" He glared at her again. "I just found out Lyla, I'm not interested in custody arrangements and sleepovers!"

"And you're not getting either until this gets worked out," she said.

"I didn't ask for either!"

Let's take this a day at a time. The way she thought it would go. Just one day. "One day at a time," she murmured, starting the engine. She closed the door and draped her arm outside of it, while he kept his hand on the roof of the car, peering down at her. She clicked her seatbelt on, speaking as she got the car ready. "I'll bring her by. You think about what you want. We're taking this one day at a time. You know you're her father. No matter how that happened, you know now. You know she wants to meet you. You know. We can discuss everything else later, but there is no going back. I kept her from you because I couldn't trust you and you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me. That's on me, but you're also part of why I made that decision. I'm not sorry for it Tim. Evangeline is my entire life, she is my sole reason for living right now," she said, making her intentions quite clear. She laughed and brushed at her eyes. "I don't want a relationship with you. I don't want to be a happy little family who comes together at the end of a Lifetime movie. I want my daughter to be safe and happy and right now having a father is what she thinks will make her happy. I might disagree, but I know that if she doesn't get it, she'll be devastated. Keep that in mind as you make your decision. Because you hurt me so much I kept her from you. You hurt me Tim. If you even think of hurting my child…"

"I get it," he interrupted her long speech. He seemed blasé about it. He shrugged, his voice hollow. "You'll kill me. I get it."

Lyla snorted. She pulled the transmission out of park, her hands on the wheel. She reached and dropped her sunglasses onto her nose, her voice full of passion. "No Tim. You hurt her and I won't kill you. I will make you suffer for it for the rest of your miserable and pathetic life. Goodbye." She didn't care his hand was on the car and she hit the accelerator, burning rubber out of the driveway.

Oh my God, she thought, her mouth falling open in a gasp. That was…she had no idea where that came from. That hatred. If it's what it was. Hate? Anger? Frustration? Something. She glanced up at the rearview mirror. He was watching her as she drove away. She'd turned the tables on him, she thought. He probably wasn't expecting that. He must have been expecting weepy Lyla Garrity apologizing and being sorry for it. She wasn't sorry. Only thing she was sorry for was she hadn't planned it well enough to keep her daughter from getting hurt.

She drove by the front gate, seeing Tyra in a rental car pulling out behind her. She hit the accelerator harder, trying to put as much distance as she could between anyone connected to Tim. She released another long breath and kept driving until she reached Tinker's house. She climbed out and approached the small bungalow, knocking lightly on the rusted aluminum screen door. The door inside was open and she could hear laughs, yells, and belching. "Gross," she mumbled, pulling the door open and stepping inside. "Hello?"

She stepped into a living room, which seemed to have been configured with a wall-size flatscreen and gaming system, but whose furnishings had a lot left to be desired. She knew Tinker was a district manager for a few of the Alamo Freezes and also helped out with the Panthers. He seemed in the same boat as her brother, content to just do what he could to have what he wanted and no more. Tinker was stretched out on the floor while her brother was lying on his stomach on the couch, both of them angrily shouting at some football game on the television. She turned, in time to see Hastings walking into the room, her daughter perched on his shoulders, her hands covering his eyes and giggling as Hastings pretending to bump into things. "Turn left!" Eve yelled, but Hastings went right, knocking into the wall. "No silly, go left!"

"Hello Evangeline," she said, her voice slow as she drawled out Eve's full name. She arched her eyebrow at Eve's 'oh shit' look. "What're you doing?"

"We're playing a game," Hastings answered, lifting Eve's hands from his eyes. He rolled them up. "Right E?"

"Right. We played a game called basketball. It's stupid."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Hockey's stupid."

Lyla chuckled as Eve's face went to a murderous red. She hated when people contradicted her opinion that hockey was the best sport in the world. She crossed her arms over her chest. "So what's going on out here? Hello Dallas," she said, reaching over to Tinker. "What's going on?"

"Not much Ms. G, what's up with you?" Tinker asked. He pointed up to her. "Hey, did you check out Tim's ranch?" Tinker was clueless about her relationship with him. "I help him out with fencing from time to time, he's getting a program together for kids or something, you should take little E over."

Little E is going to get her fair share of Tim Riggins in the next few weeks, Lyla thought, and the topic still sore. She pursed her lips. "I'll think about it." She glanced at her brother, who hadn't moved. "You alive over there Bud?"

"Huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "What are you doing today? Can you please go home and check on Dad? I found out his leg is going numb more often than not and he shouldn't be driving with it." She glared at him when he slowly turned his head, a similar 'oh shit' look on his face. Yeah, I know, she silently conveyed. He winced. "Yeah," she mouthed. She reached for Eve, lifting her from Hastings, who knelt and passed her over. "Thank you Hastings." She looked at both of her brother's friends, smiling. "You guys should come to the house for Christmas dinner. We're having it on Christmas Eve. It'll probably be the best dinner you've guys have had in a long time."

"Sounds like fun," Tinker said, sitting up. He smiled at her. "What kind of pie do you make?"

"All kinds."

"Mommy makes a bitchin' pumpkin pie," Eve parroted, obviously quoting someone. Probably her uncle. Lyla gave her a 'no' look. She shrugged. "It's true."

"I'm in then," Hastings said, flopping onto the floor. He pointed to the TV. "That receiver is going to miss."

Lyla watched and sure enough, the receiver missed the ball. She smiled down at the guys and glanced at Eve, who was yawning. She kissed her daughter's temple. They were silly but at least they kept her entertained. "Alright gentlemen, I'll see you later. Bud, check on Dad."

"Yeah."

"Bye Ms. G!" Hastings and Tinker yelled.

She shook her head, smiling and left the house, setting Eve in her booster seat. She kissed her temple, touching her forehead to her daughter's. Eve squirmed. "Mommy, stop. Leave me alone."

Ugh. I hate that you're getting like that. She kissed her again. "No, you're mine."

"Can we see the horsies?"

"Hmm, I'll think about it." She wanted to talk to Eve about Tim, but not in the car. So she drove off from Tinker's house, taking her time through East Dillon until she reached the old Lions football field, which was empty. It was too cold and frosty now for most of the kids who used it to be out, so she set a bundled Eve on the grass, taking her hand and walking off to the field. She pointed to the old scoreboard, which still proclaimed the 2011 East Dillon Lions as state champions. "Uncle Bud played on that team up there."

"A lion? That's cooler than a panther."

She smiled. "Well Mommy was a panther. So was Uncle Jason. Daddy was a panther too, his last year in high school." She walked along the sideline with Eve, taking a seat on one of the team benches. Eve hopped up beside her. She sighed; how did she bring this up? "So honey, I know you went to a ranch and that Uncle Bud and Grandpa told you not to tell me." She looked down at Eve, who was looking away. Her voice softened. "It's okay sweetie. They were just protecting Mommy. You're not in trouble."

"I'm not?"

"No."

"But I fibbed." Yeah, I know that's the problem. Eve knew fibbing was wrong and she would get in trouble for it, but now telling her this was okay? It was creating a conflict. She figured she'd have to explain it later, because now she wasn't sure how to differentiate it.

"Yeah, but this was okay because you didn't want to fib. I know you met a man named Tim." She paused. Best get on with it Garrity. Her heart flipped and began to skip a couple of beats, her voice trembling. "So what did you think of Mr. Tim? Did you like him? Was he nice?"

Eve nodded, her eyes lighting up a bit. "He was nice. He has horses and a dog named Dracula. He's funny. He drools."

"Mr. Tim?" she laughed, but she knew Eve meant the dog. She smiled sadly. A sigh heaved from her and her shoulders fell down. Her voice softened. "He was nice to you though? You made him laugh?"

"Yeah, he has a nice smile and he giggles." That's right, she thought, remembering. Tim didn't laugh, he giggled like a girl. It was a funny sound from such a masculine man, but it fit him. It was nice to hear he was smiling. Eve wiped at her nose. "He thinks hockey is silly so I want to show him it is not. He played football and he wants me to come to his house and see his ranch. I liked him Mommy. I want to see him again."

Well that was something. It was good he was kind to her. Of course, she figured he would be. Tim liked children, he would never admit it. He was impatient with them sometimes, but…he was a kid himself around them. She wrapped her arm tight around Eve, pulling her against her chest and almost sobbing into her. "Well that's really good Evie. I'm so glad you like him and he was nice." She clutched her and Eve began to cry a little, confused at the sudden emotion. She pulled back, wiping at Eve's eyes and laughing, blinking through her tears. She took a deep breath, whispering. "Mommy loves you no matter what happens, okay? I love you and all I've ever done was because I love you…but you'll see Mr. Tim soon. You'll see him soon."

Eve wiped at her eyes and sniffed. She hiccuped. "Mommy?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you crying?"

Why was Mommy crying? I don't know. She lifted Eve up and spun her around. "Because I'm happy Evie. I'm happy this Christmas will be a good one, when I was scared it might be bad." I hope like hell this all will be okay. Tim had a lot of decisions to make and maybe one day Eve would realize what all this meant and she'd hate her for it, but that was a long way off and she'd deal with it when she had to deal with it.

Eve nodded. She looked at her feet and back up, frowning. "I don't get it. Then why are you crying if you are happy?"

"Because sometimes when you're happy you cry. They're happy tears." Lyla kissed Eve's soft, cool cheek and brushed her nose against hers. "I'm happy because I think you will get your Christmas wish and that's all I ever want is for you to be happy."

Her eyes widened. "I get my wish?" she whispered.

"I don't know, we will find out, but I think Santa is listening," she said. She grinned. "And maybe you might even get those new hockey skates you asked for."

She giggled. "I want pink laces."

"Maybe Santa will get you pink laces." The skates were already wrapped up, with pink laces and even pink blade covers. She walked down the football field with her daughter, turning and held her arms out. "You want to see something silly?"

Eve nodded quickly, smiling. "Yeah."

"Okay. Don't laugh at me." Lyla backed up from her daughter and held her arms out. She giggled, trying to remember a stupid cheer. She figured cheering wouldn't matter so long as Eve could see she wasn't the only athlete in the family. "You know how Daddy and Uncle Bud say I used to be a cheerleader and you make fun of me?"

"Yes, that's not a sport."

"Okay, well then, if it's not a sport…" Lyla took a deep breath and then snapped her feet together, running and screamed as she threw her body forward, her hands springing from the ground and she forced her body in a twist, landing back on her feet. She tripped a little as she walked backwards from the landing, her whole body screaming at her. She laughed and threw her hands in the air. "Whoo! I did it!"

"You can do that!?" Eve screamed, running after her. She giggled. "That's cool! I want to see again."

"You want to see again? Well I don't know if I can…." Lyla took off again and this time did a series of cartwheels, jumping to her feet and then falling on a simple roundhouse, giggling as Eve ran and tackled her. She grabbed her and rolled around in the grass, jumping up and running off as Eve chased her, both of them giggling and falling back down together. She sighed, her chest rising and falling hard. A sad smile crossed her lips. This was just them. Now it wouldn't be again. She kissed Eve's temple. "Love you."

"I love you." Eve sat up and then pushed at her chest, taking off running again. "My turn!"

Lyla stood up, tugging at her jacket as she watched Eve run and spin in circles. It was one of her favorite things. She called it 'twirling.' She crossed her arms against the cold, her breath coming in warm puffs of air. She heard a low rumble of a truck and turned, wondering if someone wanted to use the field, but she didn't see anyone who would be using the field. Tim's truck sat beside the fence, and she could see him watching. She wondered how long he'd been there and how he'd even found them. It didn't matter. She turned to Eve, running and grabbing her, throwing her into the air, even if it meant she'd break her back as Eve fell towards her, squealing as she went airborne.

"I'm flying!" Eve shouted, landing on the ground and took off running. She slapped her mitten on Lyla's knee. "Tag!"

"I'm getting you!" Lyla laughed, running after her. She spun around and around, and after about fifteen minutes, looked at the parking lot. Tim was still watching. She smirked and lifted her hand in a wave. Make up y our mind, but you better make it up fast. She grinned down at Eve. "Come on, let's get back to Grandpa's house and make cookies."

"Cookies!" Eve took off for the car and Lyla followed after, getting her settled in her booster seat before she went around to the driver's side. She made eye contact with Tim again, before climbing in and slammed the door, driving away, all the while feeling Tim's eyes on her.


	10. A New Fallen Snow

**_10. A New Fallen Snow_**

Eve nervously pressed her nose to the glass of the car window, blowing hard against it to create steam. She dragged her finger through the condensation, making a smiley face. She wiped it away and peered out as the car made its way up a long driveway to the barn. She quivered, excited to finally get to see the animals. She wanted a puppy. First things first though, she wanted her Christmas wishes this year. Then maybe she'd ask for a puppy for her birthday. Or a pig, she thought, eyes widening at the sight of a baby pig. "Pig!" she shouted, pointing and jumping up and down in her booster seat. "Mommy there's a pig! Can I pet it?"

"You have to talk to the owner, remember what I told you, be quiet around the animals and don't pet them unless Mr. Tim says you can pet them. Some might bite. And you're going to stay out of the mud." The frost had melted away and now everything was thawing out, turning to mud in a lot of places where snow had sort of accumulated. Eve nodded, reaching to unbuckle her seatbelt as Mommy parked the car. "Wait," she warned.

Ugh. I've been waiting forever. She held her arms out and climbed out of the car, reaching to adjust her rainboots. Mommy told her she could wear them because it was muddy. They were purple. They matched her t-shirt. She hugged her coat around her and sniffed. It was kind of cold still. She walked away from the car and to the barn, where Mr. Tim was standing in the doorway, holding the pig. "Can I pet it?" she demanded, reaching up.

"Yeah, here, he's even got a leash."

"Like a dog?"

"Exactly like a dog, which she thinks she is." Tim set the piglet down on the ground, the little animal immediately sniffing around her feet, snuffling along. He chuckled. "She's a teacup pig. She's not going to get very big, so she's gotta' stay out of the pen with the big hogs."

A teacup pig? "I'm going to call her Chip." Chip was the teacup in Beauty and the Beast. She looked up at Tim, blinking. "Can I call her Chip?"

"Well since I've been calling her 'Hey You' I guess that's as good a name as any." Tim seemed a bit weird to her today. He was standing far back and he didn't seem as friendly as before. She wrinkled her nose, wondering if she made him mad with all her questions. Sometimes Bud told her not to ask so many questions when she first met people. It was sometimes rude.

She cocked her head, scowling up at him, her hands going to her hips. "Are you mad at me Mr. Tim?"

His eyebrows went clear to the top of his head. "Am I mad at you?"

"Yes." Her cheeks turned pink and her voice grew soft. "I'm sorry."

Mommy knelt beside her, placing her arm around her shoulders. She turned into her, hanging her head a bit. "It's okay Evie, Mr. Tim is not mad at you, sometimes he's just not the most friendlist person." She glared up at Mr. Tim. "But it's not your fault, nothing in this situation is your fault."

Well that's good at least. She held the leash for Chip, kneeling and petting the pig's head. She giggled as the little animal snuffled her nose into hers. "She's got a wet nose," she said, scrunching her nose into an imitation of the pig snout. "She's so cute. Can I keep her Mommy?"

"Um, no, the pig is staying with Tim."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a little girl, not a pig, and we don't have room at the house for one. Walk around with your pig. Mommy is going to go into this office and talk with someone she thinks she knows." Mommy seemed to grin when someone stepped outside of an office. "Hello Coach Taylor, how are you?"

A tall man with dark hair and a dark green baseball hat that said something she couldn't read came out of an office. He had on a t-shirt that said 'Dillon Panthers', because she knew how to read that, and jeans. He wore a coat and had a crooked smile. He seemed very nice, she thought, automatically liking him when he gave Mommy a hug and then spoke softly to her, grinning. "Hello there Eve, don't know if you remember me. You were a bit smaller when we last met."

She cocked her head, frowning. I don't remember. She shook her head quickly, ducking a bit behind Mommy's knee. She didn't know him, or at least, she didn't remember him. "I'm Eve," she said quietly.

"Eve sometimes you are the most personable person in the world and then you get like this," Mommy said, laughing as she pushed her forward. "This is Coach Taylor, remember Mr. Matt and Miss Julie? This is Miss Julie's daddy. He lives in Pennsylvania, where the bell is. Remember the bell with the crack from your book?"

Oh yeah, her book on the United States. "The Liberty Bell," she said.

"Very good," Coach chuckled, shaking her hand. He smiled wider. "You look very pretty. I hear you play hockey. I've never played hockey myself, but since I know it's a very difficult sport, you have my envy. You like it?"

She nodded instantly. "Love it."

"Well that's good," he said. He stood up and clapped Tim on the back. "This is a friend of mine. I knew him and your mom when they were in high school. He gives you any problems, you come to me, you hear?"

She giggled. She liked this guy. "Yes."

"You promise? He barks a lot, but he doesn't bite, keep that in mind."

"He barks?"

"Figure of speech," Mommy laughed. She patted her back. "Come on, I'm going to talk to Coach Taylor, why don't you and Tim go look at his animals? I think I might even let you ride a horse if Tim says its okay."

Really!? "Awesome," she giggled, following Tim. She held the leash to her pig, Chip trotting around after her as she followed him down a corridor, away from Mommy and Coach Taylor. She looked up at him. "What animals do you have?"

Tim was quiet for a moment. She didn't know if he heard her, so she asked again. He nodded and wrapped his arms around himself a bit. He was very different. He stopped in front of a hall. "Horses are down here, but we have pigs, cows, and goats. You don't like chickens, so we won't look at them."

"No, chickens are mean."

"I have a duck."

"A duck? Like Donald Duck?"

"His name is Fred." Tim walked into a room and to something on a table, which was covered with a sheet.

"Is that the duck?" she asked, looping Chip's leash around the doorknob. She walked towards him and reached up, taking his hand, a little nervous. He jumped back a bit and let go. She stepped away, eyes wide. He seemed really annoyed. "I'm sorry," she automatically whispered. She stepped farther back, swallowing hard. I want Mommy.

Something went over his face and he closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head. "No, I'm sorry, you surprised me. Don't be scared." He reached forward slowly, his fingertips outstretched. He knelt, smiling a little. "I'm sorry I scared you. I didn't mean to…you didn't do anything wrong."

I don't know if I did anything wrong but it seemed like it. She moved closer to him and set her hand into his. It was very big. His fingers closed around hers. His hand was warm. He seemed very big to her. Like grandpa used to be, but bigger. She blinked a few times, whispering. "Did I make you mad?" I know what Mommy said, but I don't know. Sometimes adults lied too.

He narrowed his eyes, but this time it didn't scare her. He seemed confused for a moment. "No," he finally whispered. His lip quirked upward. "No you didn't make me mad, I…I'm sorry. I'm just…ever get confused?"

She nodded. Yeah. A lot. "Sure."

"Well…I'm a little confused about some things and sometimes I think it seems like I'm mad when I'm not. I'm not mad at you."

"But you're mad at Mommy." She blinked, fixing her gaze on his. That's what it was about, right? He was mad at Mommy. Mommy got upset that she saw Tim. Mommy didn't like to hear about him, she thought. Uncle Bud said something about him and she kind of got mad. She wondered why. It seemed like Tim was angry at Mommy. She blinked again, completely innocent. "Did Mommy get you mad?" She continued, smiling a little. "Sometimes she makes me mad."

Tim narrowed his eyes a little. "What does she do to make you mad?"

"She makes me eat vegetables. I don't like them." He giggled and this time she saw his smile for real. His eyes crinkled and his teeth showed. She grinned as wide, pointing to her front tooth. "I'm going to lose this. It's loose. See?" She pushed her tongue on it, wiggling.

He clicked his teeth, smiling. "You play hockey, you should probably lose it soon."

"What's that mean?"

"Hockey players don't have teeth."

"That's not true!" She didn't think it was true. She frowned a little. I'll have to look into this. She scowled. "So are you mad at Mommy?" She still didn't have an answer.

Tim pursed his lips and then sighed, sitting down against the wall of the room. She sat down beside him, drawing her knees underneath her. She was wearing jeans today, so she didn't have to worry about getting a skirt dirty. He drew his knee up and draped his arm over it, speaking quietly. "I knew your Mommy a long time ago. I think we met when we were your age, in kindergarten."

"I'm in first grade, cause' I'm smart."

"Well then maybe we were in first grade, I dunno', but we have known each other a long time and we haven't talked in a few years, since you were a baby and it's for grown-up reasons." He looked at her for a long time before he spoke again, whispering. "We had a big fight. We're talking again. So sometimes it seems like we're mad at each other but I don't know if we are anymore."

"Why did you fight?"

He shrugged, frowning deeper and whispering. "I honestly don't know anymore."

Well that was a stupid reason. She shrugged. "You should say sorry."

"Maybe I should."

"And Mommy should say sorry too. Then you both can be friends." She stood up and dusted off her jeans, walking over to the table and reaching up to the sheet over something. "What's under here?"

"My newest acquisition."

"What's that mean?"

"Something I just got," he chuckled, reaching to the edge of the sheet. He arched an eyebrow, grinning. "You ready? Close your eyes, but be quiet, loud noises scare her."

She closed her eyes tight, giggling. "What is it?"

"Okay, on the count of three…one…two…three!" Tim whipped the sheet off and she opened her eyes, gasping in surprise. A cage sat on the table, with a hawk in it. A pretty brown and white hawk, with large golden eyes and a sharp beak, talons wrapped around a post. She stepped away at the sight of the talons. They looked really sharp. The bird blinked one eye and rotated her head around to face Tim, watching him carefully as he reached for a large glove, slipping it onto his hand. He opened the door and put the glove in, wrapping something around her ankle. The bird jumped and then hopped to his hand. He slowly pulled her from the cage.

That's when Eve saw the bird only had one wing. Her eyes widened. "Oh no!" she whisper-shouted, her mouth falling open. She blinked, trying not to cry. She swallowed hard. "What happened to her wing?"

"She got caught in a trap," Tim said softly, holding the bird carefully from him. He cocked his head slightly at her. "I somehow have become this magnet for wounded animals. I should fire Becky."

That made no sense. "Who is Becky?"

"My friend. She helps me with the ranch, she always gets me animals or shows me animals that need help and somehow I buy into it and now I have a hawk."

"She's a hawk?"

"A red-tailed hawk."

"What's her name?"

Tim shrugged. He sighed, his voice soft. "I'm calling her Lyla, but…" he glanced down at her, smirking. "Don't tell your mother."

"That's Mommy's name," she said. She wanted to pet the hawk, but was wary of the talons. And she remembered what Mommy told her, about not going up to strange animals. She looked up at him, quiet. "I want to pet her."

"Hmm, yeah so do I, but see the talons and that beak? She'll take a nice chomp out of us. Maybe if your mom says its okay I can let you put on the glove. She knows that that's a good thing, she won't get hurt when she sees the glove, but for now…" he moved the hawk closer to the cage and she jumped into it, back on her post, letting out a screech-like sound, flapping her one wing. That made Eve very sad. He took the little thing off her foot and then removed the glove. "I've got to make her a bigger enclosure. She can't fly away, but she might like to be outside." He covered the cage with a sheet, quieting the bird. "I'll feed her later, that might terrify you forever."

"Why?"

"Oh no reason." Tim closed the door keeping the bird and then walked away from it, leading her to another barn, where there were some cows. "These are my dairy cows," he said, gesturing.

"Like milk?"

"Yeah. But mostly the Dillon High School 4H club uses them for whatever." He led her to some goats, including a pygmy goat that she thought was hilarious. It was so little! The goat's name was Lamp Chop, which was funny to her, because he was a goat and not a lamb. They saw the big pigs and then they left, going back to the main barn. She wanted to see the horses some more, but they had all day. She went into the office, where Coach Taylor, Mommy, and two other ladies were talking. One had short, really curly hair and was wearing a pretty red dress and the other was laughing about something, and she had a fat tummy.

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you having a baby?" she blurted out.

Lyla covered her face with her hands. "Eve! What did I say about not asking rude questions?"

"Oh. Sorry."

Tyra smiled, offering her hand. "I'm Tyra. Nice to meet you. And yes, I'm having a baby."

"Oh." Eve cocked her head. She was unsure how that worked. She wrinkled her nose. "Did you eat the baby or something to get it in there?" Tim snorted, while Coach turned pink. The other lady laughed, Tyra snickered, and her mother looked like she wanted to die. Eve shrugged. It was a legitimate question. She shrugged. "Well?"

Tyra hid her smile behind her hand and then laughed, cocking her head slightly. "No, that's not how the baby got in there."

"Well then…" she began, but Mommy immediately interrupted.

"Evangeline this is not appropriate conversation. We can discuss this at home or when you're older."

"Yeah like when you're 40," Tim mumbled.

Eve frowned slightly, looking up at him. Why would he care? She shrugged. Whatever. Adults are weird. She walked over to her mother, climbing up into her lap, where she could see straight across to the lady sitting at a desk, wearing the pretty red dress. She cocked her head slightly. The lady was giving her a funny look. Like she didn't like her. She scowled. "I'm Eve," she announced.

The lady lifted her brow. "I'm Becky."

So that was the lady who got the animals. "You like animals?" she asked, still close to her mother. There were a lot of strangers in the room and she didn't like strangers.

Becky softened a bit, leaning forward. "Yeah," she said, smiling politely. "I like animals."

"This is my pig now," she said, gesturing to Chip.

Lyla groaned. "That is not your pig."

"Yes it is, Mr. Tim gave her to me."

"For the day," Lyla said, gritting her teeth and shooting Tim a glare, while he smiled cheekily. She sighed, reaching down to lightly touch Chip's head. "This is not your pet."

But she's mine, she wanted to say, her tiny brow turning into a point. Tim must have seen, because he cleared his throat, reaching to pick up Chip. "Tell you what kid, how about we keep her here, okay? She can stay in the house with Dracula. You can see her."

"But what about when I go back to Chicago?" she asked, sniffing. Chip was her pig. They loved each other. She reached for Chip, the little piglet snuggling against her, squealing. She wanted to get Chip a coat, since she was shivering. She stood up and left, leaving the adults alone. She set Chip on the ground and wandered away, holding onto the leash. Dracula caught up with her, sniffing the ground and following.

After several minutes of playing in the grass with the dog and the pig, a voice called out to her. "What are you doing there Little Garrity?"

She looked up, frowning slightly. "You're Coach Billy," she said, recognizing him from the other day at the football stadium. She pointed to Chip. "This is my pig. Tim gave her to me. I think she's going to stay here because Mommy won't let me have her at the house."

Billy chuckled, his hands on his hips. "Is that so? My brother got a pig for a little girl? Well that's a new one. Then again, Cafferty's no stranger to that."

"Huh?"

"Luke? Becky's man? He sold his pig for her or something, I'm sketchy on the details."

Eve had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. She screwed up her face. "I don't know what you're saying."

"Forget it. So what's with the pig?" Billy was funny to her. He talked to her like an adult, but he seemed like he didn't know anything. Eve shrugged. He shrugged back. "You just…got a pig from my brother? No questions asked? Again, new one. He should learn to get a girl flowers or something."

She stood up, loosely holding Chip's leash. "Tim is nice to me but I think he doesn't like my mommy." She wiped at her nose. She sniffed. I think I'm getting sick. I can't get sick at Christmas! She tugged on his jeans. "Can I get a Kleenex?"

"You're lucky I've got snot-makers just like you. Here." He pulled a package of Kleenex from the pocket of his windbreaker, which was bright blue like Dillon Panthers blue, and passed them to her. She took one and blew her nose. He sighed when she handed the crumpled Kleenex back to him. "Thanks kid. I really needed that."

"You're welcome." Why would he need a dirty Kleenex? She didn't understand adults. She looked up at him again, blinking. "Your Tim's brother?" She figured she didn't have to call him Mr. Tim when he wasn't around. "Are you older than him?"

"Yes. Why? I can't pass for his younger brother?"

"No, just asking." She shrugged. "I don't have a brother. I don't even have a daddy." She sniffed again. "Well, I hope I will get one for Christmas. I know he's here, he lives in Texas." She stood on her toes, grabbing his knees and looking up. He seemed like a nice guy, she didn't feel as scared of him like she did Tim sometimes. Her eyes widened. He knew Grandpa. He was probably a good guy, if Grandpa liked him. Plus, he gave her a Kleenex and he was funny. He even called her a nickname. "Can I tell you a secret?" she stage-whispered.

Billy leaned down. "I don't know, can you?" he stage-whispered back. He laughed. "Why are you going to tell me a secret? What if I told someone else, you don't know me that well."

"Are you gonna' tell?"

"No."

"Okay." She waited a second and lifted her hand up, cupping it over the side of her mouth and whispered again, divulging her secret to him. "I wish Tim was my daddy." She smiled, ducking her head a little. He scared her a little, but she liked him a lot and she thought maybe he might be a good daddy. He had animals and he was nice to her and he and Mommy knew each other for a very long time. She giggled a bit. "That's a secret. I don't think it's going to come true."

Billy seemed a bit serious, his voice quiet. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"Huh?"

He shook his head quickly and cleared his throat loudly. He stood up again. "Nevermind. Thanks for the wish kid. Where's your mom?"

"Did you know my mom?"

"Did I know your mom? Yes, I know your mom. She's crazy." He paused and reached to scratch his hair beneath his hat. "Probably shouldn't have said that."

"Mommy's crazy!?" she exclaimed.

"What!?"

They both whipped their heads around in time to see Lyla standing nearby, glaring at Billy. "You idiot! You're telling my daughter I'm crazy? What is wrong with you?" she exclaimed. Eve giggled. She'd never seen Mommy like this. It was kind of funny. Mommy walked straight to Billy and smacked his shoulder. "Apologize!"

"Hey, I'm not apologizing when it's true! Stop hitting me! You're insane!"

"And so are you, honey don't believe a word he says." Mommy smirked, crossing her arms and cocking her hip. "Hello there Billy. Long time no see. Not that I can say I've missed you or anything."

Billy laughed. "Wow Garrity, same as always, huh." He lifted his eyebrow. "I hear you've been keeping some pretty big secrets the past…six and a half years?" He cocked his head, his voice softening. "I hear that my little brother might have a pretty good reason to be mad at you. Not that he's talked to me about it or anything."

"Be very careful with what you say and who is around when you say it," Mommy warned.

I have no idea what they are talking about, Eve thought, looking up when Tim walked over to them, stopping in his tracks. He glanced between Lyla and Billy. He cleared his throat a second later. "Eve, your mom and I talked for a second."

"Just a second? I'd think you'd need a hell of a lot more time," Billy muttered.

"Shut it." Tim looked away from his brother and smiled back at her. He knelt down, scratching Chip's ears. He looked up and smiled softly again. This was the Tim she thought she might like. He wasn't scary like how he was when she first got to the farm. "So your mom and I talked. Even when you go to Chicago I'll keep Chip here and maybe you can see her when you come visit your Grandpa and I'll promise to give you updates and send you pictures on her. How's that?"

That was fine. She nodded. She didn't want to say goodbye to Chip though. She sniffed, picking up Chip and stuck her lower lip out, tears flooding her vision. "I can see her tomorrow? I don't want to say goodbye, she's my pig."

He frowned a little and touched the pig's head, his voice soft. "You can…you can come and see her tomorrow. If it's okay with your mom."

She immediately looked to Lyla. Mommy seemed upset, she thought, cocking her head slightly. Why was Mommy upset? "Can I?" she whispered. After a very long moment, Mommy nodded her head, but didn't say anything. She grinned and reached to hug Tim, squeezing his neck hard, sandwiching Chip between them, who began to squeal and wiggle away. "Thank you Tim! Thank you so much for my pig!" She set Chip down and handed her leash to Mommy. "Okay I'm done now, can we please see a horse Tim?" She took his hand and marched off, dragging him behind her.

They went to a horse's stall who had a bandage on her hoof. She was about to ask what happened when Tim gestured. "She got an infection in her hoof, so we can't ride her. But this is Prancer. She's the nicest horse you'll ever meet."

"Prancer! Like Santa's reindeer!"

"Exactly." He showed her all the horses. There was an entire herd of them, with funny names like Cheese to a donkey whose name was Billy, just like Tim's brother. He laughed when she asked why. He knocked his knuckles to his head. "Because he's empty-headed like my brother." The donkey snorted in response. He continued along and finally stopped in front of a horse's stall. "Okay. This is Hera. She's one of the oldest horses I have and she's really good for people who first learn. I learned how to ride with her." He pulled open the stall, gesturing for her to go back.

She stood back, looking up and smiling when Mommy and Coach Taylor stood near her. She squeezed Mommy's hand. "Where did Tyra go?" she asked. She wanted to ask the lady if she knew if she was going to have a girl baby or a boy baby. Babies were kind of cute.

"She had to go find her sister. Her sister is married to Billy," Mommy explained. She smiled down at her and then leaned over, kissing her forehead, whispering. "You've been very good today. I'm proud of you."

Proud? What did I do? She looked up again, whispering. "I'm going to learn to ride the horse." She was scared. She'd never been on a horse before. This was all new for her. She moved into her mother's knees, watching as Tim looped the reins for Hera around a post and began walking back and forth from a room, loading her up with a blanket, a saddle, and fixing her bridle and the stirrups. She looked up at her mother again, whispering. "Mommy."

"Hmm?"

"Do you like Tim?" She wondered if they were still fighting. She continued, a surprise look on Lyla's face. "Because I asked if you guys are fighting and Tim said he didn't know. He didn't know what you guys were fighting about so I want to know. Are you fighting? Do you like each other?" She continued further, rambling. "Because I like him. I think he's nice but sometimes he can be scary. He has a hawk with one wing and the hawk's name, he named her Lyla, and she's kind of sad, because she has one wing and it got stuck or something and now she can't fly." She paused, looking up again and whispering. "Did you know that?"

It took a few seconds before her mother responded, her voice soft. "He said that? That he didn't know if we were still fighting?"

"I don't know. I don't remember."

"Oh." Lyla squeezed her hand and knelt, whispering to her, completely serious as she zipped her coat back up and adjusted her scarf. "Well Tim is a grownup and so am I and sometimes we fight, but you don't need to worry yourself about us. Now tell me again…" she frowned, confused. "He has a hawk with one wing who he named Lyla?"

She nodded. What was confusing about that? "I think she's very sad," she whispered. She wondered if that's why Tim named the hawk after her mother. She reached her palms to Lyla's cheeks, covering them and whispered, before giving her a hug. "It makes me sad too." She looked up as Tim clicked his tongue. It was a funny sound. She squealed, pulling away, walking slowly towards the horse. "Can I ride her?"

Coach pulled her back a bit. "Well hang on there, first we gotta' get you a helmet. Right Riggins?"

"Oh crap, yeah. Hang on." He disappeared and a moment later returned with a black riding helmet. He sighed. "Might be a little big." He buckled the strap and then walked with her to the horse. He reached down and smiled, lifting her clear up and set her on the horse. "There you go. Hold on."

Lyla moved closer to the horse, nervous. "Be careful with her Tim."

"She's fine Garrity."

Why did they call Mommy by her last name? That was kind of funny. She gripped the pommel, her eyes wide. This was very high up, even if Hera wasn't a very big horse. Tim said something like she wasn't very big, she was a pony, not a horse. I don't know though, this is very high up in the air, she thought, gulping. She took a deep breath. Be a big girl, she thought. Don't cry. She looked over at Lyla, who gave her a thumb's up and clapped her hands. "Look at you! You look like a cowgirl, here I'll take some pictures."

"I got that Lyla, here," Coach said, taking the camera from her. He focused in on them and chuckled. "Smile!"

Eve grinned, positively beaming as Lyla stood beside her, an arm around her waist. She looked over at Tim, who was adjusting the reins. "Come here Tim, be in the pictures too."

"Uh…" he glanced at Lyla. He shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Be in the pictures Riggins, she wants it," Coach ordered. Tim heaved a deep sigh, glared at Coach, and then walked around to the other side, looping the reins over. He moved her hands so they were holding them and then stood, while Lyla tried to back out, but Coach shook his head, silently gesturing for her to be in the picture. He smiled, chuckling. "Smile again."

Eve beamed once more and when she finished, looked down at Tim. "What do I do?" she asked, clutching the reins.

"Well first we get you outside, but you're going to do nothing more than walk around the paddock." He led them outside and into a small paddock. There was a large series of them behind the barn, with other horses in them. She looked out in the distance. There was a ton of cows. She pointed, about to ask, but Tim answered already, closing the paddock gate behind them. "That's one of my cattle herds. The others are out somewhere on the land."

"What do they do out there?"

"They get fat."

"Why?"

"So I can sell them." He cleared his throat. "And you know, people buy them so they can eat…"

"Tim!" Lyla and Coach exclaimed at the same time.

What? She wanted to know. She shrugged, looking at the small paddock. This was all she had? This was all the room? She moved in the saddle, her butt starting to hurt. Tim laughed. "Your butt hurting yet?"

"No."

"Don't fib," he joked. He stroked Hera's neck. "Just sit straight and let her do the rest. Keep your heels down, good." He patted the horse's flank, walking along with them. He smiled up at her. "You like horses do you?"

"I like them. I never rode one."

"Yeah? Well you're riding now."

"You're holding her."

"No I'm not."

Eve's eyes widened, realizing he had been walking along beside them without holding the horse. She giggled, gripping tighter. Wow. I'm riding a horse. She looked over at Lyla, waving. "Mommy! I'm riding by myself!"

"I see you baby! Good job!"

She grinned, walking around the paddock without help. This was a lot of fun, she thought, looking over the top of Hera's fluffy mane. I don't know if it's more fun than hockey, but it was definitely fun. She smiled, waving to Coach, who waved back. He said something to Tim, who nodded. They spoke and she wanted to know what they were talking about, because Coach seemed to be telling Tim something very important and Tim looked like he was getting a 'talking-to' like he was in trouble for something. Mommy stood away, taking pictures with her camera and her phone.

It went on like that for awhile. She just wandered in a circle, her pony content. Mommy and Tim talked together. It looked like they were fighting about something, but whenever she looked over at them, they'd see her and stop. Coach went away, she didn't know where he was. Becky came out and looked at her for a few minutes before going inside. A nice guy with blond hair came out, laughed with Tim, waved to her and left with Becky. She sighed. "I'm bored," she called.

"We should probably get going," Mommy said, coming over to the side of the paddock. She tapped her watch. "We've been here for a few hours now." A few hours!? Time sure went fast, Eve thought. She yawned. She was getting tired and her butt was numb. She didn't think she could feel her feet either. She let go of the pommel and held her arms out so Tim could put her down on the ground. She rubbed at her butt, scowling. Mommy laughed. "Your butt hurt like you fell on the ice a bunch of times?"

"I don't fall anymore." Unless someone tripped her. She looked up at Tim. "Thank you Tim for letting me ride the horse and giving me my pig. I want to see you tomorrow." She looked up at Mommy. "Can I see him tomorrow? Then I want to show him hockey. Can I do that?"

Lyla chuckled nervously. "I don't know, we've got a lot to do."

"Please Mommy?"

"Well…" she sighed. She shrugged again. "I guess…I mean…honey, Tim has a job. He has to work and he can't be with you all the time. In fact, I think it would be best if we took this on a day to day thing and we didn't overdo it, what do you think?" Only Mommy wasn't asking her, she was asking Tim. She cleared her throat, whispering. "Unless…unless Tim sees it inside himself to want this. It's up to him. If he wants this. Or if he wants to wait a few days."

Tim didn't look at her; he was too busy staring at Mommy. That was weird. Eve looked up at him, waiting. Come on, she thought, say something. He cleared his throat and smiled down at her, his voice quiet. "I would like to see you tomorrow. If it's okay with your mom."

"Is it Mommy? Please?"

Lyla sighed. "Fine." She cleared her throat again. "But in the morning we're going to do what I want to do. We're going to finish our cookies and we're going to wrap presents and then we're going to see some of Mommy's friends. Then we can stop here and you can see your pig. Besides, that's not your pig. It's Tim's pig, he's letting you play with her."

"Oh." Well she didn't care. Chip was like her pig. She smiled up at Tim. "Okay."

"Say thank you again."

"Thank you Tim, I had a lot of fun." Eve handed him her helmet. She smiled again. I really like him. He smiled back and set the helmet aside. Then, all of a sudden, he reached down quickly and wrapped her up in a big hug. She jumped a little, startled, but hugged back. That was funny, she didn't think he liked hugs. She pulled away. "Why did you hug me?" she asked.

"Eve," Mommy hissed.

I don't think that's rude to ask. She peered at him, inquisitive, her greenish-gray eyes looking right at him. He stared at her for a few moments, silent, until he whispered. "Because I like you Eve. You asked me earlier. I do." He looked up at Mommy, still whispering. "I like you a lot. I think we can be friends. What do you say about that?"

I think we can be friends too. "Good," she said. "I want to be friends. You have animals. I like them." She hugged him again. "Bye bye." She turned and took her mother's hand, walking through the barn and out to the car, waving goodbye to people who were working with everything. She waved to Dracula, who was lying in the sun on his back. Silly doggie. She began to chatter about how fun it was as Lyla got her up into her seat. She dusted her jeans and spoke about the horse, about Chip the pig, and everything she knew Lyla had already seen. Over and over again. Until she fell asleep about five minutes of driving later.

When she woke up, got her bath, and ate dinner, she told Bud about it. She told Grandpa, and she told Jason when she asked if she could talk to him on the phone. She wanted to tell the whole world about Tim and his animals and his farm. She went to bed that evening, too excited to fall asleep. I want to go be with Mommy, she thought, climbing out of her bed in her room at Grandpa's. She tiptoed out of the room and down the hallway, hovering over the stairwell. She blinked. That was weird. Tim was at the front door. She didn't know he was here. She cocked her head, listening in to his conversation with Mommy. Mommy didn't seem happy.

"You can't just drop by here," Mommy hissed. She was angry.

Tim scowled, holding open the door with his hand, while his other hand was on the doorframe. "I had to see you. How long do you want to do this Lyla? That's the first time I ever spent time with her. I just found out about this. I can't do this every single day, but…but I don't want to stop it. When do you plan on telling her? I don't even know her yet."

"You seem to get along fine with her."

"For two hours, Lyla. You gave me two hours. I want more time, but not like this. Not without her knowing. You have to talk to her."

"And say what?" Mommy laughed, but it sounded like she was crying. She sniffed. Yes, she was definitely crying. "Say that you're her father? How do I do that Tim? You tell me. I was planning on telling her around Christmas. Not this soon. I want her to at least believe there is some sort of magic in the world and she could get what she wanted."

"Well I'm not popping out of a present Lyla. Tell her I'm her father sooner rather than later or I will. She's going to start wondering anyway." He paused. "She already wants it to be me, Billy told me."

"Billy told you what?"

"That she wants it to be me. She told him today. She wants me to be her dad. How do you think she's going to react when you tell her that yeah, I'm the dad she's wished for and by the way, you never told her this entire time because you thought I was insane or something." Tim laughed. Mean. He pushed away from the door, stepping backwards. "Tell her. Now."

"She's asleep."

Tim cocked his head slightly and looked straight up the stairwell. She gasped, covering her mouth and flung herself backwards against the wall so he couldn't see. She felt her little heart pounding out of her chest. He laughed again. "Sure. She's asleep. Good luck Lyla. This is your mess."

"You have to make up your mind, two days ago you didn't want to meet her. Now you want me to tell her you're her dad?"

"I finally got to see how good a kid she is Lyla. That's why I changed my mind."

I don't know what's going on, she thought, sniffing. She crawled around and back up to her feet, running back to her bed. She jumped into the sheets and flung them over her head, shaking. A few minutes later, the light flicked on in the hall and the door opened. Mommy came into the room and turned off the light. She rummaged around quietly and then came over, sitting on the edge of her bed. Eve barely moved, pretending to be asleep. Mommy set her hand on her shoulder and sighed. Then she got up and went to her bed across the room. After a few minutes, Eve crawled out of her bed and crossed over, tapping Mommy's shoulder. "Can I sleep with you," she whispered. Please.

Mommy moved the covers and she crawled in beside her. "You have a bad dream?" she whispered, kissing the top of her head. "Or do you just want to sleep here tonight?"

"I just want to sleep here." She was very confused. She was also excited. She blinked a few times, smiling into her stuffed panther, clutching it to her chest. It was true then. Tim said it himself. He was her dad. She giggled and buried her face into Lyla's chest. She'd keep it a secret, because that's what it sounded like, but…her wish came true! It was true! She pulled the stuffed animal away from her face, smiling up at Lyla.

Lyla laughed. "What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing," she fibbed. She bit her lip. She guessed it was okay to fib. Santa already got her what she wanted for Christmas. She could make it up by next year.


	11. Shaking the Present

_**11. Shaking the Present**_

"So what do you think?" He leaned back in the chair behind his desk, glancing at Coach, who was seated across from him, on the other side. It was a complete role reversal from many years ago, where he was on the other side of the desk and Coach was leaning back in the tall chair, commanding the room. Although he knew he'd never command a room when Coach was in it. Coach would always be the one who knew more than him.

Eric leaned back, steepling his fingertips together. He tapped them and looked down at his feet, waiting a moment before he smiled, long and slow. "She's a sweet girl. I've met her a few times."

How sad was that? Coach didn't even live in Illinois, he didn't even live in Texas…he barely saw him anymore these days and how sad was it that Coach still knew his daughter more than he did? He looked away, closing his eyes. That was what she was. He wouldn't say it in front of Lyla. In front of anyone, but Eve was his daughter. He smiled a little. That was actually not bad to say. Daughter. I have a kid. He lifted his eyes to Coach, who was just smiling at him. "What?" he demanded, defensive.

"Nothing. Just that you can hide Tim, but you can't hide very well. Not on this." Eric leaned forward, draping his arms over his knees. He smiled wider. "She's a really sweet kid, Tim. I can say that. I mean…I suspected. I don't get involved in these things, but the couple times Tami and I were in Chicago and we saw Lyla and Eve…I suspected. She's a lot like you."

She was? He didn't see it. "How?" he echoed, barely a whisper. He wanted to know. Suddenly he was ravenous for information. What was she like as a baby? What was her favorite food? Her favorite color? She adored animals, she loved hockey, she thought football was strange, and she giggled just like he did. She looked like Lyla though. He only suspected it when she crinkled her eyes and nose up, then she kind of had his expressions, but…he didn't think she looked a thing like him. She was Garrity through and through.

Eric shrugged, his voice soft. "She's quiet, but she's got a sense of humor. She can be loud when she's around people she's comfortable with. Keep in mind Tim, I don't know her that well. If you want someone who knows her, you need to talk with Lyla or Buddy." He paused. "Or Jason. I think Jason is close with them, but I'm not sure." He continued. "I only saw them a few times over the past six years. Lyla doesn't live near Matt and Julie, but when we're in the same city, it'd be rude to not say hello. Tami saw her a few more times, but she's never said anything and that's all I'm going to say on the matter. You need to figure this out on your own, son."

He took a deep breath, holding it. Son. That's what he was, wasn't he? He had Coach and he had Buddy, but…Buddy had known this entire time. He hadn't said a word. Oh he'd hinted, Tim knew. Now he knew. All those little drops about Eve and wasn't she cute, didn't she look like Lyla but no he didn't think she did, he thought she looked like her daddy. Oh who was her Daddy, you ask, well an ex-boyfriend but you know Lyla she's strong-willed and stubborn so who knows what the real truth was…did you want to come over when Lyla and Eve would be in town, it won't be so bad, Lyla won't get angry. Buddy had been playing this for six years. Poking and prodding and he'd finally taken the plunge when he had him drive Eve back to the farm the other day.

I can't believe I never thought of it before. He guessed he just didn't expect Lyla to keep something like that from him. It never occurred to him. They were always safe, so it wasn't like there was something that happened and it was a possibility. She just…she just kept it from him. He was busy with his life. Getting his ranch up and going, building his house…being happy. Or what he imagined passed for happy. He'd been so angry. So angry and bitter and sad. He didn't think he was anymore, but… he lifted his eyes slowly to Coach, who was fixated on him, as though waiting for it. "I didn't know I wasn't…" he trailed off. He closed his mouth and stood up, walking over to the window and leaning against it. He picked up a bottle of beer that was sitting on an end table, sipping. He swallowed hard. Just say it. He glanced over his shoulder, where Coach was leaning over the top of his chair, waiting. "I didn't know okay Coach? I thought I was fine."

"She makes you laugh."

"She's a kid. Most kids make me laugh." My nephews were funny. He laughed with them. They had their own brand of humor though. Usually involving fart jokes and belching contests. They were little boys. They thought that stuff was funny. Eve was different. She thought it was funny when he rolled his eyes at something. Or when he teased her. She was different. I think it's because she's a girl and I've only ever been around boys, he thought, knocking his forehead into the glass.

"She's different."

Thanks Coach, I didn't get that already. He closed his eyes, whispering. "Did you know?"

"I told you. I had my suspicions. I don't play in supposition." He paused. "Besides, this is none of my business. I didn't know until you told me the other day."

Coach was in town with Matt and Julie. Tami would be in later with Gracie, who had to finish school up for the year. They were probably going to be spending their last Christmas here, Matt had told him the other day. His grandmother was not doing well at all, they were shocked she'd made it this long as it was, but she was a fighter. "Yeah," he muttered. He kind of just blurted it out when Coach dropped by after arriving in town. Lyla had literally been gone about fifteen minutes when Coach came by.

* * *

><p><em>I cannot believe her. What was she thinking? Just randomly showing up at his doorstep like this? Coming to his place of work, yelling and shouting for him? He could punch his fist into the wall. He'd done that the other night and didn't feel like reliving the experience. He had a bandage wrapped around his hand, which she hadn't commented on, probably hadn't even noticed. Lyla was so self-absorbed.<em>

_He didn't know what he felt about her right now. Did he still love her? Absolutely, he didn't think he'd stop loving her. Was he infuriated with her right now? Hell yes. He never wanted to see her again at this rate. All she did was cause pain and now here she was again, causing pain. She should get a job in it. Masochists would be so glad to have her around. "What am I supposed to do?" he demanded, looking at Dracula, who was sitting across from him, watching warily after the blowup two nights ago and earlier this morning._

_Dracula whined, slowly falling down so his head was on the floor over his feet. He rolled his eyes upwards. What did he know? He was a dog. Tim glanced at the newest acquisition Becky had just procured. What was he supposed to do with a teacup pig? The little thing was in a box, snuffling and oinking away. He sipped his beer, his feet propped up on an ottoman, staring at the tops of his boots. Lyla said she would bring her by Sunday. That gave him a day. What was he supposed to do? Prepare? How? _

_He lifted his head when there was a light rapping on the front door. "Congratulations Tim, you are the father," he mumbled to himself. What was this now? Was Tyra going to drop a bomb on him? Did he somehow father her kid even after seven years of not being with her? He didn't loko out the window, but pulled the door open, eyes widening a bit. "Coach."_

_Oh thank God, he suddenly thought. Coach was here. It would be okay. He swallowed hard, as Eric pulled his sunglasses off, looping them in the collar of his polo shirt. "Good afternoon Tim, thought I'd drop by. We just got in, but Matt and Julie went to see Tyra. Figured I'd see you." Eric grinned, reaching for him and gave him a tight hug. "How are you?"_

_It had been awhile since Coach was last in town. Maybe like a year or so. Probably last Christmas, he thought. Buddy had gone to Chicago. He'd been with the family, so he'd invited Eric over. Like most Riggins events, he was wondering if it would be the last time Coach would see them before changing his name, address, and never returning. "Okay," he said, letting go and walking out of the front hall and into the living room. "Can I get you a beer?"_

_"It's two in the afternoon."_

_Tim shrugged, taking out another beer. He didn't drink like this that much, but now was the time for it. "Yeah well, it's one of those days."_

_"Everything alright son?" His stomach fluttered a little when Coach called him that. "The ranch looks good. I'll expect a tour."_

_"Sure." Tim looked over, following Eric's curious gaze to the pig. He shrugged when Eric just arched an eyebrow, saying nothing. "Becky got her from some shelter. I don't know what to do with it, she's too little for the hog pen. Won't get bigger than a small dog."_

_"I guess you have a pig. Why can't Becky just take her back?" Eric knelt over, scowling at the pig. He pointed to her. "She's sleeping like a dog."_

_"Part of me thinks it is a dog."_

_"Kind of cute."_

_"Gracie want a pet?" he asked. The solution could be staring him right in the face here. He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned when Coach sent him a 'don't start' look. "What? She begging for a dog yet?"_

_Coach straightened up, sighing and walked back over to the counter. "Yes. I've heard it every Christmas since she could talk. I think this might be the year though, she's wearing me thin. Lord Riggins, if you ever have children, just wait until they wear you thin, but make sure it at least lasts a few years so they don't think they really have the one-up on you." Children. It must have shown on his face, because Eric immediately grew concerned. "What? What's wrong?"_

_That's what she was, wasn't she? He twisted the beer bottle in his hand, growing nervous. He looked at his knuckles, setting his hand on the counter and spread out his fingers. He closed his eyes. Just say it. Coach could hear it. "I have a daughter," he breathed. His eyes widened quickly. Oh wow. That was the first time he'd said that. He closed his eyes again, laughing slightly. "I have a…I have a daughter."_

_"What are you talking about?" Coach whispered, looking up at him. He glanced at his hand. "What's wrong with your hand? What did you punch? Or who?" He looked around the room and then frowned. "I take it the wall. Okay."_

_"I hit the wall when I found out. She hid her from me." He looked up, straight at Coach. His eyes narrowed and he whispered. "Did you know? Did you know about her?"_

_Eric scowled. "I would be able to answer that if I knew what you were talking about. Did I know about who Tim?"_

_"My daughter."_

_"How would I know her?"_

_He snorted, throwing the bottle into the sink. "Everyone knew but me! Lyla just kept her right there in front of me, but just far enough away that I would never be able to figure it out unless I met her or something." He turned back around at Coach's quizzical look. Guess he really didn't know. He shrugged, whispering. "Lyla Garrity's daughter. She's mine. I'm her father." He paused. "She never told me. For six years. She's never told me. I figured it out and then Jason told me for sure when I asked."_

_It all tumbled out to Coach. He hadn't told anyone. Of course he did find out two days ago. He didn't have time to tell anyone, but he knew Tyra was keeping her distance. She'd asked if he wanted company, by text of course, but he didn't reply. She took that the way he wanted her to take it and didn't drop in unexpectedly. Becky asked him nonstop what was going on with Lyla, but he didn't tell her either. Billy had dropped in, but one silent glare and he was running for the hills, knowing his boundaries nowadays. He told Coach all that he knew. Buddy knew, Buddy Jr. knew, and Jason knew for sure. Had no idea about anyone else but Tyra had it figured out. Told Coach all what Lyla told him, as best as he could figure it out, and then he summed it up with "So that's it then."_

_He sank down onto the couch, hanging his head in his hands, his eyes closed. "That's it, huh?" Coach murmured, sitting across from him in one of the armchairs, like he was a shrink or something. "You have a child. A little girl."_

_I have a little girl. He nodded and scrubbed his face, falling back into the couch, wishing he could sink into the cushions and never come out. He looked over at Coach, whispering. "What am I supposed to do?"_

_Eric chuckled, a smile spreading over his face. "What do you think Tim? You be a father."_

_"I…" I can't. I can't do that. He shook his head. "I don't know how."_

_"Do you think anyone knows how? I'm sorry for how this has arisen, Tim. You should not have been left out, but that's not your call and it's not mine and Lyla made it. It's been six years and now you know. You missed a lot, but you don't have to miss anymore. Prove her wrong," he said. Eric lifted his eyebrows slightly, his voice soft. "Lyla was worried about your emotional wellbeing, that's what it sounds like. She was worried for you and didn't tell you. That's her argument, right?"_

_"I might not have told you everything." He lifted his eyes again, breathing it out for the first time ever. "I told her to stay away from me."_

_Eric cocked his head. "Oh?"_

_"I may have said some things…things that weren't good."_

_He made a grumbling noise, shifting in the chair. "Well. It's not business to know. Whatever was in the past is there now. You have a child who doesn't know the past and doesn't need to and it's irrelevant. So what are you going to do now? You heard my advice, but of course you don't need to listen to it." He smiled. "Not like you ever did."_

_A tiny smile pulled on his lips. This was probably the most emotionally important conversation he'd ever had with Coach. Coach didn't know half of his history, even if it felt like he did. He shrugged, quiet. "What am I supposed to do with a girl? I have nephews."_

_"You met her. What'd you think?"_

_"I like her."_

_"Well there's a start, you like your own kid," Coach laughed. His face softened. "Tim I have two daughters. I didn't know what to do with them half the time. Still don't know what to do with them and I'm on the second kid now. You think I'd have learned. This is your time now. You have to make it count. Prove her wrong and be a father. Do what yours never did, that's my advice and then it's none of my business what else happens." He leaned back in the chair, glancing at the pig. His eyes rolled towards him again, his voice quiet. "You don't know what to do with her, huh?"_

_He hsook his head. The kid played hockey, not football. She wore pink sparkly boots and skirts. He shrugged again, whispering, but smiling in spite of himself. "She wears pink and sparkles. She…" He looked at his hands. "It's stupid."_

_"It's not stupid. What were you going to say?"_

_He looked up again, sheepish. It was just his thought. I hope I'm not saying something dumb. He nibbled his lower lip, whispering. "She's soft. Delicate. What am I supposed to do with a girl? I don't know how to deal with them. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Coach." He sighed. "I don't know her."_

_"Get to know her." Eric gestured to the pig. "You can start with that."_

_"The pig?" he asked._

_"Yup. Start with that. Trust me, if she's anything like I remembered, she'll take one look at that pig and you'll have her eating out of your hand. Just be careful with her. None of your gruffness and meanness. Whatever you do, don't you dare let your feelings for Lyla and what she did translate to the child. It's not her fault, none of this is her fault and I can say that for certain." He grew firm again. "And Tim Riggins, so help me, if you hurt that little girl because you're scared and upset or whatever, then you are no player of mine son. You understand?"_

_He nodded firmly. "Yes."_

_"Good." Eric tapped his fingers together again, smiling over at him, a lot gentler than he had been a moment before. "So you have a daughter. Wow. With Lyla Garrity. Who ever would have thought?"_

_Yeah, he thought, sighing. He stood up and walked to the front door, already sensing the person on the other side. Call in a brother thing, he thought. Or a sense that he knew when trouble was near. He pulled it open, walking away from Billy who just wandered in, closing the door behind him. "Pull up a chair. I'm telling Coach about my daughter."_

_Billy froze, almost dropping the six-pack of beer under his arm. "What? Daughter? Are you drunk Timmy?"_

_"I have a daughter with Lyla. She's six, her name is Eve, and Buddy and Jason's been hiding it from me." He reached in and took a bottle from the case under Billy's arm, lifting it up to him. "That's about it. Cheers." He swallowed a long pull and wandered back into the living room, Billy chasing after him for questions. _

* * *

><p>He looked back over at Coach, who was studying him again. "The pig worked," he said softly. He smiled, hiding it behind his fingertips. That was actually…he wasn't really surprised. He'd never been a big animal person, but here he was, acquiring every broken-down mammal, reptile, and bird in the West Texas area. He frowned slightly, glancing to Coach again. "I saw Lyla last night."<p>

"None of my business Tim."

"No, not…no." He sighed hard. He looked up again. It had been eating at him all night long. He hadn't slept over it. There was no doubt in mind Eve was listening in on the conversation. It was a sixth sense thing. Since prison, he was constantly alert. You always had to be in that place, always listening in and knowing when to have a blind eye and deaf ear. Information meant everything. He had the feeling about halfway through his conversation with Lyla that there was a set of little ears nearby. Then he'd looked up and made eye contact with her before she scurried away. She knew. He shook his head. "She knows."

Coach furrowed his brow. "Who knows?"

"Eve. I think she heard me talking to Lyla last night. I made up my mind after they left. I want her ot know the truth. No more Tim thing." He didn't want her to call him anything other than Tim right now, but…he needed Eve to know. She was such a sad little girl. Lyla didn't see it, but he did. Kindred spirits, Becky called them when Lyla drove away.

_"I know you Tim, you're like my brother. I love you and I know you and you are basically the same person as that little girl. She's sad and so are you."_

_"She doesn't look sad."_

_"That's because you don't see it."_

He wasn't sure what he was looking for until she was walking around in the paddock by herself. Content to be alone. It was sad to him. He had to talk to Lyla during those moments, when she was alone on the horse. Lyla snapped at him about forcing this too fast, he snapped at her about deciding once and for all about what she wanted. She wanted to know what Eve meant about the hawk.

_"You're naming birds of prey after me? The hell is that supposed to mean Tim? I rip out your jugular and swallow small animals whole or something? Don't talk to my daughter about things like that."_

_"Don't want her thinking bad about you?"_

_"Would you want her thinking bad about you?"_

That had hit a nerve. No. He didn't want her thinking poorly about him. He named the hawk Lyla because…he wasn't sure. She had been at his barn for a few weeks. Tina the vet picked her up from a sanctuary and had done some surgery on her. She sent her to him to keep. For his 'kid therapy camp.' That was just an idea, he wasn't going to go through with it. Too much work. So now he had a paraplegic hawk to take care of. Talk about sad. The name had slipped out when he pulled her from the cage today. The regal animal who couldn't fly away. Maybe he was seeing too far into things. "This is my life," he mumbled to himself.

"What was that?"

He shook his head slightly. "Nothing. When's Mrs. Taylor coming to Dillon?"

"Should be here soon." Eric stood up, walking over to him. He clapped him on the shoulder. "You did good Tim. This is not going to fix itself over night, but I know you'll get through it. You always do."

Those are things like money problems or getting enough good grades to stay on the football team. Not care for a child he didn't know he had. "Yeah," he murmured, walking Coach out of the house. He waved to him when he drove off and sighed, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the land. He glanced at Dracula. "Come on, let's check on the kids, huh?"

Dracula woofed and jumped into his truck, scrambling up into the front seat. I could have gotten a golden retriever or a lab or something, but no, the only dog the humane society had at the time had been this dopey basset hound. Who wasn't so much of a dope. He hunted down rabbits in the barn. Tim drove the long way around the land, taking his time as he checked on fencing and met up with a couple of his part-time ranchers who were bringing a herd of cattle over from another ranch several miles away. They were all accounted for, thank God, even if some coyotes had been meandering the route with them. He kept going and wound his way to the complex. Just in time for Tyra to appear. "I have a life, I just choose to spend it bothering you," she said, before he could even open his mouth to ask why she was here. She wrapped her arms around herself. "Freezing."

"Texas in December," he answered. It was a cold snap. He walked into the barn office. Becky had left for the day. He reached into his pocket and removed the keys for the medicine cabinet. He wiggled a bottle in her direction, smirking. "You want that kid out now? Found out this apparently induces labor in humans too."

"The idea you have all those high powered drugs there is scary," Tyra said, sitting on the edge of the desk. She pulled her coat aside, framing her stomach in her hands. "This little dude is still cooking. Needs about four more months before he's done in there."

Tim turned on his heel. His eyes widened as Tyra grinned. "He?" he whispered. He smiled, his mouth falling open. Oh wow. "A boy? Wow! What are you going to do?"

"Hey, he's got ten fingers, ten toes, and a strong heartbeat, he's also going to be a star soccer player given by how he kicks at my stomach." Tyra tossed her hair over her shoulder, her arms wrapping back around herself. She smiled softly. "Dex is happy about it."

Yeah, he thought her husband might be happy about it. He sat beside her on the desk, kicking his feet back and forth and folded his hands between his knees. He sighed. "Look at us."

"I know. I'm pregnant, married to a wealthy White House counsel, and having a baby boy in a few months." Tyra sighed. She patted his knee. "And you…"

"Didn't know I knocked up Lyla Garrity and I have a six-year old daughter," he murmured. He closed his eyes. It's like Tyra had actually moved on with life and he was back in high school in some ways. He opened one eye, smirking. "So when is Dex-ter going to fly into town? I still don't think he exists."

"You've met him," she laughed.

He shrugged. He wasn't sure the guy was real. It still seemed odd to him that she married someone who was so far removed from Texas life. Dexter had never stepped foot in Texas until he met Tyra and she brought him home to introduce him. She tended to keep him away from the family. So you don't corrupt him, she told them. Dexter was a quintessential New Englander, having grown up in Vermont, and was not the most outdoorsy of folks unless it involved snowboarding or traipsing through forest, since he grew up at a ski lodge, apparently. Tyra met him at New York University, where Landry Clarke had decided to finish up his degree in music and had a roommate by the name of Dexter St. James. She'd gone to NYU for a Master's degree and met up with Landry. And thus, one of the world's wackiest relationships was born, he thought, shaking his head at the idea of Dexter, who wasn't half bad looking but a bit on the nerdy side, had ended up with Tyra. "He's rich, right?" he asked.

"Tim, shut up. I'm not married to him because he's rich."

"You're trying to get back at Landry, huh? Marrying his roommate?"

She arched her eyebrow, smirking. "I'll have you know Landry was the one who set us up." He smirked. He doubted that. She shrugged. "Well, maybe not, but he was never against it. They weren't that close, even though they were roommates. Besides, Landry is off making it big on the New York alternative music scene and I…" She placed her hand over her belly, grinning. "Am turning into Mindy."

"Oh no don't say that, you have far too much going for you," he teased. He kicked his feet against the desk, running his tongue over his teeth and glanced sideways. Tyra had her life in order. She was married, she had a baby on the way, and she made a decent dollar working as a lobbyist for a major non-profit for rural and urban education. He also didn't mind Dexter. They had absolutely nothing in common, but he thought that might be the point.

Tyra smiled, the corners of her mouth turning down ever so slightly as she leaned in closer to him, her voice soft. "You are really good with her, if that's what you're worried about…she's a kid Tim. She's still making up her mind about you."

He nodded. That wasn't what he was really worried about, but…it was one of those things. He glanced sideways, whispering. "Julie never mentioned it to you? She never…thought?" He sighed. Why would she? Why would anyone? "Nevermind."

She shook her head, quiet. "Julie never really saw them. Lyla keeps to herself. Maybe she did that on purpose. She's always been a great manipulator Tim."

"Survival," he said, looking sideways. That's what it was. It wasn't manipulation, it was survival for Lyla. It was how she managed to get out of situations she was most uncomfortable in. It was the Buddy Garrity side of her. He knew it. He'd had to adapt to some of that himself for most of his life. Tyra was good at it too, she just called it what he'd just said. Survival. He sighed hard. "She's coming over later today."

"You guys going to tell her?"

"I don't know. I think she knows."

Tyra nodded and got up from the desk, buttoning up her coat. "I'll get scarce. Remember I'm decorating your house tomorrow. I'll be damned if we have to have Christmas dinner there and there isn't even a tree. Becky is going to help me. She has something she wants to talk to me about."

Oh yeah, that. He shrugged. "She's pregnant."

"What!?"

"I don't know, it's just a guess, she's been extra bitchy."

"That does not mean a woman is pregnant. You're such a stereotypical man." Tyra swatted him with her scarf, walking out of the office. She looked over her shoulder, smirking. "How'd Billy take it?"

He picked up a bunch of files Becky had left for him to review. They were thinking of going into business with another ranch. He also had those survey reports to look at again; the geologist was calling and bitching that she needed an answer for her bosses with the oil company. "How'd Billy take what? Becky being pregnant. He doesn't care, he just wants Luke to coach fulltime." He knew what she was talking about. Didn't want to talk about it anymore.

She wouldn't put it down, following him to his truck, where he put away the files and then returned inside, meandering through the maze of his barn and stables to check on Prancer. "You know what I'm talking about. He seemed extra ticked at Lyla, I didn't think he hated her like that, but there was some serious dislike going on."

Billy had always thought Lyla was out of his league and was going to hurt him. Look at that, Billy had been right, which he would never admit. In the end he thought they got along fine. There had always been snappishness between them, because Lyla thought Billy dragged him down. Look at that, Lyla had been right. They were both right in the end. Once upon a time ago he'd have liked them to get along. "Billy's just trying to be a big brother," he answered.

"He really did not like her yesterday."

"And she didn't like him." Lyla had been on a roll with Billy. They were both baring teeth. He wanted to keep them apart for now. Billy had been furious with Lyla once he figured out he had a niece who'd been kept from him. Then there was the whole protective big brother thing. He tried too hard at it, but then again he always tried too hard these days, Tim thought to himself, opening up Prancer's stall. "They will never be best friends," he sighed, kneeling to check her hoof. He looked up at her, his voice quiet. "What have you been doing? This is not healing."

Prancer blew out hot breath on his face, leaning to nuzzle at his head. Tyra smirked. "You are one with the animals. What's with the Dr. Dolittle thing? It was nowhere near this bad. I thought you were going to just have cattle."

"Things change."

"Obviously. Becky rules the roost too much around here."

"She can't have pets in her apartment complex and she doesn't have the patience for them 100% of the time, so I get all the ones she finds and wants to keep," he explained, standing up and rubbing Prancer's face and neck. It was working out fine though. He had some ideas for the place. He smiled, turning to look over at Tyra. "Wanna' see my hawk?"

"Tim I'm a married lady now."

"No," he chided, locking Prancer's stall back up. He led her into the room where he kept Hawk Lyla and took off the sheet. Tyra's eyes widened and she stood bad, in awe as he reached in with the glove, the hawk eyeing him warily. He reached his ungloved hand up a bit and as she watched him, he slowly touched it to her head, stroking down her back.

"You have a hawk."

"I do."

"With one wing."

"I do," he sighed. He moved his hand away, still holding her aloft. He smiled softly. "I call her Lyla."

Tyra rolled her eyes. "You're twisted, but it works. She's a hawk, those talons can rip anyone to shreds." Her voice softened. "I could seriously kill her for what she's done to you for six years. She never told you about your own daughter, that's BS Tim. You need to start thinking of things."

Billy had hinted as much last night. "I'm not going to a lawyer."

"You need to start thinking of things," she repeated. She pushed away from the wall, warning him as she walked away. "I'll talk to Dex about it, but you need to think like this Tim. Don't let Lyla just take her away for another six years. This isn't her game anymore. You need to start standing up."

I am standing up, he thought, looking at the hawk. He cocked his head, whispering. "What do you think?" The hawk let out a screech and flapped her good wing. He frowned at the poor creature. Queen of the sky and she lost a wing and now here she was. He set her back in her enclosure and then frowned, leaning against the table, watching as she hopped around in it, settling herself on the post. She gave him a sad look. Or at least, that's what he thought it was. I have to let you fly free, he thought, reaching a finger into the enclosure, wrapping it around one of the bars.

The hawk screeched and then quickly nipped at him. He smiled, pulling his finger out. She screeched again and he swore she smiled, her beak opening slightly. I'll make you a place, he thought, covering her back up so she could be calm. He left the room and found Tyra getting into her car. She repeated that he had to start thinking of things. He ignored her and got into his truck. His phone buzzed. Text. He glanced down at it.

_Meet us at the civic center recreation building. 5:30. They have an ice rink. My dad is coming. _

Good, I'll have a chat with Buddy, we have a lot of explaining to do, Tim thought, turning the steering wheel and pulling away from the bar, heading up to his house.


	12. The Thaw

_**12. The Thaw**_

"Mommy spin me around."

She stopped ice skating and went over to Eve, turning her shoulders and laughing as the little girl's feet flew on the ice, spinning in a circle. She let go and Eve continued to twirl on the ice, moving across fluidly, with no fear of falling. She skated backwards, her feet forming a 'v' for balance. She applauded when Eve stopped and then skated away, lifting her leg up and leaning forward into a salcow. "Nice," she said, her hands going to her hips. "You ever think of giving up hockey sweet pea and you'll have quite the career as an ice skater."

"That's for sissies," Eve said, spinning around again. She stopped, her eyes lighting up as she skated away from her. Lyla frowned, turning and scowling at the sight of Tim walking towards them, his hands in his pockets. She pushed off, skating to the edge of the ice, where Eve was leaning against the railing. "Hi Tim," she giggled. She pointed to his feet, instantly frowning. "Where's your skates?"

"Oh you think I'm getting out there? No way," he said, smiling ever so slightly. He barely acknowledged her. "Garrity."

I suppose it's something he's calling me 'Garrity' instead of just 'Lyla.' She always hated when he called her that unless he was being deeply serious. In a nice way, not in his 'I hate you' way. She nodded to him, cordial. She had to be, especially in front of Eve. "Tim."

Eve pouted. "I want you to skate."

"I'm not getting out there with razors on my feet, I'll watch you," he said, trying to make light of it.

She could see Eve starting to get upset, as she had been looking forward to showing him her favorite pastime. I think I can handle this, she thought, smirking at him. She placed her hand on her hip, cocking it and grinned rather deviously. He narrowed his eyes, obviously not liking the look. "You scared Riggins? Scared a little girl is better at something than you are." She grinned again. "Or me?"

He cocked his head, a twisted smile pulling over his teeth. "You better than me at something? I don't think so."

"Then come out here and prove it."

He hesitated and Eve folded her hands together beneath her chin, grinning over her teeth. "Pleeeease!" she begged, drawing out the 'e' in an annoying fashion. She clapped her hands. "Please Tim, please, I want to show you to skate, it's fun! Come on now!" She skated over to the edge, easily hopping up onto the foam floor around the rink, grabbing her guards from the bench and slipping them over her hand. She stood up and grabbed his hand, where he flinched, but didn't say anything, and led him towards the skate rental window, chattering away.

This should be entertaining, she thought, hopping off the ice and put the guards on over her ice skates. They brought theirs; she knew Eve couldn't go two days without ice skating. Even in summertime she'd bring her to the limited hours that their local rec center had the ice rink open. Sometimes they'd be the only one. It was where Eve was her happiest, so Lyla gave it to her. She'd learned herself, taking some adult classes with what limited freetime she had, and bought herself a pair of skates. Eve had on her figure skates as opposed to her hockey ones, which were bulkier. Lyla also didn't like her wearing the blades down more than necessary.

She looked over her shoulder at Buddy, who was on the phone with someone, looking distressed. It was crunch time for the Panthers. Maybe they would fire the coach, she thought. Billy might like that, he was probably sick of being a coordinator for as long as he'd been. She smiled in spite of herself at the sight of Eve leading Tim back over to them, skates in his hand. This should be fun. Her eyes narrowed on his hand. "What happened to your hand?" she demanded. She moved down a row on the bleachers, taking his wrist into her hand gently, inspecting it. Good God, she realized, noting the lack of swelling and the mottled bruises. She turned it over, running her finger over and feeling a noticeable bump. She glared at him as he tugged it away. "You broke your hand," she hissed, as Eve went to get back on the ice.

"Yeah so?"

"You have to go to the doctor and get it set."

"Why? It's fine."

"Tim this could become a permanent injury, what the hell were you doing?" She squinted, her voice soft. "Are you getting in fights?"

He glared at her, ripping his boot off and tugging on a skate. "No, I'm not getting in fights. I will in a minute if you keep this up."

"Threatening to hit me? You can't do much damage with that hand. God, Tim, honestly," she said, frustrated. He was a child. No matter how much he might have convinced people he'd changed, he was getting into fights and not taking care of himself. How could she trust him? She jumped up, but he grabbed her wrist, turning her around. She grit her teeth. "Let go of me."

He scowled up. Clearly pissed. "I didn't get in a fight," he whispered. He looked her up and down, whispering. "I hear you're a doctor. You can set it later."

She cocked her head. Yeah, that wasn't happening. "I need a machine, tools. Medical supplies. Definitely X-rays. I can't set it on its own."

"Yes you can."

Technically, yes, she could, but they weren't in a war zone or off in the wilds with no medical support. "That's called field medicine Tim and you'll have a bump on your hand from where the bone won't heal properly, I'm not doing it. Get your skates on and come out there because your daughter," she said, emphasizing those words. He didn't flinch this time. She quirked her lip. Good. She continued, whispering. "Your daughter is out there and wants to show you what her favorite thing in the world is. Give her some time. You showed her your life yesterday, now she is showing you hers. Please be good."

He squinted and then softened somewhat, setting his foot down on the floor. He draped his arms over his knees, speaking quietly. Civil. "Are you under the impression I don't want to be here right now Garrity?" He stood up, slightly off balance. He grabbed her shoulder to right himself, automatically letting go when she glanced at his hand. She looked up at him again. The skates put two inches on him. He smiled slightly, his voice soft, but she knew that didn't mean he wasn't still pissed off at her. "I want this, Lyla. I want to know her and I want you to tell her about me. This isn't going to be over." He walked around her, clapping his hands at Eve, who had skated to the side. "Are we ready? What do I do now?"

"You put your foot on the ice silly."

"Like this?"

"And then your other foot."

"Okay, now what do I do?"

"Hands out," she ordered, skating away. She turned quickly, grinning cheekily. "You can hold the wall for balance. I'm good at this."

Lyla arched her eyebrow, watching with fascination and amusement as for once in his life Tim Riggins did not seem confident doing something athletic. He even did a backflip once, just because she told him he probably couldn't do something as athletic as that. He'd just watched her a few times and then did a perfect back handspring. This was different, this was mechanical. She pushed out onto the ice, swirling around him. "Aw Tim can't skate," she said, teasing.

Eve glared at her. "Mommy be nice."

"Trust me sweetie, if I was in this position he wouldn't be nice to me."

"Maybe I would, you don't know." He watched them for a moment, his hand loosely on the railing as she skated backwards and Eve set off to do a little routine for them, showing off her jumps and spins, which she was very good at. Lyla seriously should pursue it, maybe get her into a little skating club, but Eve was all about hockey. She narrowed her eyes on Tim, who was just studying Eve and her. He smirked when she must have given him some look. "Don't flatter yourself Garrity, I'm not looking at you."

She scowled deeper. "Shut up. Ice skate. You sissy."

"Nice comeback, you've been hanging with a six-year old too much."

She pushed off her foot, taking off around the ice rink while he tottered for a moment. Eve hockey stopped in front of him, grinning. "I'm good," she announced. Lyla sighed. The child did not have ego problems. If she did, it was she had too much of one. They needed to work on that. Eve moved her hand towards him. "I'll help you, come on."

"Hang on, just…" he squinted at her feet again. He motioned for her to skate away. "Start off and stop."

"Why?"

"Just do it." Lyla leaned against the railing, her ankles crossed, watching curiously as Eve did as Tim instructed and then looked over her shoulder. Tim waited a second and then pushed off the ice, skating fluidly. He did one even loop around the rink, picking up speed, before hockey-stopping in front of Eve. It wasn't as good as hers, a little shaky, and he had to throw his arm out to keep from falling on it, but it was lightyears beyond what she'd been able to accomplish the first time she strapped on skates. Her jaw fell. Oh my God. He smirked. "Well Garrity?

I have no words. She closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly as Eve whooped, jumping up in the air and threw her arms up. "Wow! You did it! That's awesome! I fell, you didn't even fall!" She seemed a bit jealous. "That's not fair."

Your father is very good at anything athletic, Lyla thought, smiling in spite of herself. She should have known all he'd had to do was watch the mechanics of it. How you pushed off, how you stopped, and where your arms and legs were at any given time. He pushed off again, skating away with Eve while she continued leaning against the wall. After a few turns around the rink, she caught up with them, skating beside Eve, slowly kicking her foot out when she needed some more momentum. Eve looked up, smiling. "Hi Mommy."

"Hi baby," she grinned, offering her hand. Eve set her small fingers in it and then spun around, so Lyla took her other hand, skating around in circles together, giggling together. Spinning. She felt Eve had too much momentum at one point, so she let go of her hand and pushed her off, Eve's hands outright as she squealed, skating straight into Tim, who wasn't prepared for their little game. Eve crashed into his knees and he wasn't stable, his feet kicking right out from under him, where he crashed backwards onto the ice, Eve screaming as she went with him.

"Oh my God!" Buddy shouted, running from the bleachers towards the ice entrance, where they had ended up. He leaned over. "Riggins you okay?"

Tim lay prone on his back, his eyes closed. Eve let out a howl, spread-eageled on his chest, beating her small mittened fists on his sternum. "I killed him! Mommy you made me kill him! Tim, wake up, I didn't mean to kill you!" she shouted, beating hard on his chest. She flung herself over his face, sobbing dramatically. "Wake up!"

Oh my God, he could have a concussion, could be knocked out, maybe fractured his skull plate, she thought, a long list of horrible injuries and brain issues popping into her mind. The doctor side of her. She crouched at Tim's side, squeezing his shoulder instead of shaking, in case he had a neck injury. "Tim?" she asked, her voice soft. "Wake up."

Eve sniffed, wiping her nose. "Is he dead?"

Oh Eve stop being so dramatic, she thought, shaking her head as Tim's eyes slowly opened. He glanced at Eve and then sideways to her. After a second, he returned his gaze to the ceiling. "Ouch," he said, deadpan. Her heart jumped. Wow, I've never been so happy to have him alive, she thought, moving backwards as he sat up. He glanced at Eve, smiling a little. He knocked his knuckles to his head. "If you wanted to just hit me, you could have said so."

Oh no, she thought for a second, seeing Eve's face fall, almost crushed that Tim would think she'd want to hit him. A moment passed and then she smiled slowly, pushing his chest. "You're silly. Get up. I'll show you spinning." She waited for him to get to his feet and then pushed at him. "Let's go."

"You go around a few more times, I'll take a knee."

"What's that mean?"

"Means I'll sit this one out." He waited until Eve was out of earshot before turning away, his mouth falling open and a small gasp escaping it. He seemed to forget she was there, pulling back the cuff of his jacket to inspect his hand, which had turned even more black and purple. She closed her eyes briefly. That was the hand he'd fallen on a second before. Very slowly, she moved towards him, but he pulled away, scowling. "I'm fine."

"No you're not, give me that." She looked at the hand for a second and shook her head, her voice soft. "You have to get an X-ray. Come on, I'm taking you to the ER."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"No, you're not."

"I'll do it," Buddy said, overhearing their conversation.

"No," both said at the same time. That was the last thing she wanted. Or maybe it was. No, she thought, shaking her head and hopping off the ice. I'll text Bud or something. As she was reaching into her back pocket for her phone, Tim spoke softly. "Let's take Eve to my house, Buddy can watch her there. She can play with the pig. You can take me to the ER."

Compromise. It was a magical world when there was compromise involved. She lifted her head; they would be alone together. Like really alone together. After seven years. She shrugged. I guess that's okay. Eve would be disappointed, but…she hesitated and then spoke quietly, lifting her eyes to his. "After I bring you home…maybe we can get dinner and have it at your house." She followed it immediately with "If that's okay." I know he needs to get to know her. Eve needed to get to know him on different levels.

He nodded silently, looking out over the ice. After a second of watching Eve spin, her arms held aloft, he furrowed his brow a little. "She's gonna' be pissed we're stopping skating."

"She'll get over it." At his frown, she explained, her voice quiet. "She's very moody, Tim. She'll throw a tiny tantrum, just a bit of protesting, and then she'll go with it. We'll get to the car and she won't talk to me for about fifteen minutes and then she'll move on to another topic. Maybe in an hour she'll remember and get mad for five more minutes. Eve is a really easy girl when you just let her blow through her moods." Just like her father, she thought, lifting her eyes slowly to his. It seemed to pass through his mind in that moment too. Maybe I can say it. She quirked her lip slightly, whispering, even in full earshot of Buddy. "Just like her dad."

That got his attention, his head whipping sideways to her. He didn't say anything, even after she'd called Eve over, breaking the news. Sure enough, Eve got a little pissy with them, stomping away and taking off her skates in silence. She protested for a few minutes as they left, but once she got her into the car, her daughter had calmed significantly. "So I can see Chip?" she asked, her attention on Tim.

"Yes," he answered. He held up his hand. "I've got to go to the doctor. I hurt my hand. When I get back we can get pizza." He paused, his voice soft and unsure. Lyla watched him carefully. "You do…you do like pizza?"

"It's my favorite! I like pepperoni, extra cheese, and black olives, because I pick them off and put them on my fingers," she giggled, wiggling her fingers at him, still inside her mittens. She grinned, giggling some more, her head hitting back against the carseat. "What do you get on your pizza?"

The same thing. It didn't get past her when Eve began to eat her pizza like that. She wondered what Tim would say. He smiled slowly, whispering. "The same thing. I like those toppings too." You both are more alike than just sharing some genes, she thought, closing the door on Eve, separating them. He hesitated and then yanked open her passenger door with his good hand, climbing into the seat and turning, grinning at Eve. "So what other foods do you like?"

"Lucky Charms," they both said at the same time.

What about your truck? She voiced this concern to him, but Tim didn't say anything to her. He reached for his seatbelt, as though silently answering her question. She shrugged, walking over to Buddy. She crossed her arms over her chest, frowning at him. "You coming with us or are you going to wait on a ride?" Ever since he'd admitted about his leg going numb to her, she hadn't been keen on him driving alone. He hated it, but she'd stolen his car keys. Until she could get him examined by a neurologist, which wouldn't happen until after the holidays.

He scowled, but nodded. "Coach Taylor is going to pick me up. I'm having dinner with him and Tami." He waited a second, before he tried to smile a little, whispering. "He looks good with her baby. He's happy with her and she's happy with him."

"She doesn't know yet," she whispered. Would that change it? Would knowing Tim was the father she'd always dreamed of help Eve or hurt her? She wasn't sure. Part of her didn't want to find out, but…if they kept this up, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. She closed her eyes. Maybe Eve already had it figured out. After a second, she opened her eyes, reaching to hug Buddy. "I love you. Call me if you need anything." She went back to the car and then stopped. Wait. Buddy was supposed to watch Eve for them at Tim's house. She rolled down her window, calling out to them. "I need you to watch Eve, can you tell Coach to meet us at Tim's?"

Buddy waved. "I got you covered, the babysitter is already there."

Oh Lord. "Let's go Garrity, I think I have a compound fracture." Tim had moved to the backseat, sitting next to Eve. She was playing with his phone. He leaned over, pushing a button on the phone. "See, that's the cattle. When my hand gets better we'llr ide out there."

They were not riding out to the cattle. Not when it was freezing and everything. Lyla said nothing, waving to Buddy and hoping this would be okay. She just wanted to get Eve settled at Tim's and then off to the hospital. If they were in Chicago she could do it under the table, but they'd have to wait at Dillon Regional with everyone else. She didn't fancy sitting in the ER waiting area all day long. She drove silently, listening to Tim and Eve. They talked about the pig, about horses, and about hockey. Eve explained the rules to Tim, how good she was, and then she started talking about her Christmas list.

Here we go, Lyla thought, as Eve moved to the topic of wanting her father. Tim interrupted her, however, before she could really get into it, mentioning something about how he didn't have a Christmas list. Lyla felt sick to her stomach. She really was going to be sick. Just tell her, she screamed at herself. What better time? She glanced in the rearview mirror. Because, another voice screamed back. You are in the car, on your way to his house before going to the ER, you cannot possibly tell her that Tim is her father while in the backseat of a car! Hold out until Christmas. It was only a week away. How hard could that wait be?

It would be devastating, she thought, leaning back in the seat. She cleared her throat, her voice soft. "Ask Tim what he wants for Christmas, Evie." That should hopefully change the topic.

"What do you want for Christmas Tim?" Eve chirped. She turned her head up, pointing at him. She tapped her finger to his nose and then tapped her finger to hers, giggling.

Oh no, Lyla thought, her eyes wide. Tim frowned a bit, but he didn't say anything, just quirked his lip up ever so slightly, his brow furrowed. He cocked his head, voice soft. "What was that?"

"Nose kiss."

"A nose kiss? What's that mean?"

This would be the thing to send him running for the hills, she thought, sighing and deflating a bit. The weird thing about kids…insert anything a kid did after that statement, she thought. She cleared her throat. "Evie, we don't need to explain that to Tim, he's fine. Don't touch his nose."

"But I want to touch his nose. I want to give him a nose kiss." She did it again and then kept giggling, unable to stop. Tim looked thoroughly entertained, but also a bit wigged out. "What's it mean?" he asked, through a tight smile. He looked over at her in the mirror. "Inside joke or something?"

Inside everything. She turned slowly, wishing she could hit the accelerator and floor it down the street to Tim's house. Too bad there was a six-year old in the car and she was a responsible adult. Better get it over with. "A nose kiss is something I made up when I had a cold and I didn't want to give it to her," she said. She was often popping all manner of vitamins and pre-cold remedies, by nature of just working in a hospital. She never wanted to bring something home to Eve, who would suffer most. She looked in the mirror, back to Eve. "Why don't you tell him?"

"A nose kiss is a kiss from my nose to yours," Eve said. She tapped it again, grinning wide. "It's only Mommy and me. We do it only. But I like you and Mommy likes you so I let you have a nose kiss." She pursed her lips like a fish before spreading them back into one of her patented sweet smiles, cocking her head. The bow in her hair fell a little and her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Nose kisses are the best thing. It means we like each other a lot." She smiled a little softer. "And now you have someone to give you a nose kiss. I don't think you have anyone." She looked outside, her voice quiet. "You are all alone."

Out of the mouths of babes, Lyla thought, saying nothing, but inside her heart was breaking. She refused to turn and look at Tim. They were going so well. Then that happened. She cleared her throat, which had begun to close up. "We're…" she began, but coughed, suddenly unable to speak. "We're here." She drove up the driveway, stopping and climbing out, looking over the door as Tim pretty much sprinted for the house. She turned, helping Evie out of the house. Her daughter was relatively clueless at what she'd just opened on Tim. "Come on baby," she said, taking Eve's hand. They walked up the steps to the house, as she explained the rules, hoping like hell whoever her father had gotten as the babysitter wasn't a felon or some Booster or anyone she would disapprove of. Which could be most of Dillon. She sighed, helping her up onto the porch. "We're going to go inside and you're going to be a good girl for your babysitter. I won't be long with Tim. I'll bring back ice cream to go with your pizza."

"Ice cream," Eve whispered to herself, as though savoring the knowledge. She pushed open the door and walked inside, taking off her pink Ugg boots. This was the first time she'd ever been in Tim's house. Lyla hadn't been here in years. I hope he doesn't have naked girl pictures on the wall and beer bottles everywhere, she prayed. It better be grown-up. They walked around the staircase and into a large living room.

Why am I surprised, she thought, surveying the nice space. Nary a beer bottle or pinup girl poster in sight. It was messy, but that was expected. She grinned, pointing to the little playpen where Chip was sleeping. "There's Chip sweetie."

Dracula jumped off the couch, hurrying over to Eve, who squealed, lifting Chip out and hugging the sleeping piglet while letting Dracula lick her face. Lyla left her to her device, walking into the adjacent kitchen. He'd finished it, she thought, surveying it all. There was a nice fridge, a decent-looking stove, and it was clean. She was about to comment on how she liked the subway tile backsplash on the walls when she saw who Buddy had procured to be Eve's babysitter. "Mrs. Taylor!" she exclaimed. She grinned, hugging her quickly. "I didn't think you'd be in town so soon!"

"Well Gracie's school pushed up winter break early because their boiler went out, so we got an early flight, how are you sweetheart!" Tami exclaimed, hugging her tight. She rubbed her back briskly. "Oh it's good to see you, I'm so sorry we missed you the last time we were in Chicago."

"Oh you know, it's not your fault, it's the life of a single mother with a fulltime job, I couldn't get away," Lyla said. That was the truth. She didn't have much of a life outside of work. Hence why Carter was such a good thing to have around. She smiled wider. It was so nice to see Tami. They were never close when she was in school, but…hell Tami seemed to save her a couple of times. She wouldn't forget that. The weight on her shoulders, the worry for Eve for this evening, disappeared knowing she was in Tami's hands. "What did my dad say to get you here on your first night in Dillon?" she asked. I need to make it up to you.

"Your dad called Coach, but I answered the phone. I couldn't let this little urchin be alone or sit at the hospital all evening. Tim, let me see your hand." The change in tone from sweetness about Eve to firm order to Tim was astonishing. Lyla loved it. She wished she could emulate that from time to time. She watched, smirking as Tim reluctantly lifted his hand up, showing her. Tami tsked, an eyebrow arching. "You are getting this checked out."

"Yes ma'am."

"Good boy, let me see this sweet girl I don't think I remember, it's been so long, oh my God Lyla, she is gorgeous." Tami pressed her hands to her chest, sighing in longing. "Oh. I remember when my girls were that age. I miss it." She tucked a lock of long wavy red hair behind her ear, approaching Eve, kneeling to her side. Her eyes light up. "Hey Eve! Remember me?"

It took Eve a moment; a terrified look of pathological shyness crossed her face, but she backed away just as Tami moved towards her, seeming to negate it. She swallowed hard, nervous, until she leaned in, offering her hand. "I'm Eve Garrity."

"Oh aren't you sweet? Remember me, Tami? I'm going to watch you tonight and we're going to have fun. In fact, my little girl is here too and we'll be taking care of you, you'll like her, I promise." Tami stood up, smiling quickly at Tim's curious look. "Tyra's with Becky down at the farm with Gracie, they're going to bring her back up here and she's going to hang out with me. Coach has Buddy and Julie and Matt are with Lorraine, poor thing. Hope that's okay."

"It's fine," Lyla said, when Tim wrinkled his nose slightly at the idea of people in his house. Or at least, that's what Lyla thought. She pushed at his shoulder. "We'll be off."

Tami nodded, her smile flirting slowly over her lips before she spoke quietly. "I'll be here. I look forward to talking with you Lyla. We do have a lot to talk about." She gave her a knowing look and smile before turning around, going back to Eve, who could give a damn that her mother was leaving. Not with Mrs. Taylor, a pig, and a dog to keep her company.

They left the house, climbing back into her car. In about ten minutes of silence, she thought she'd heard Tim breath only once. They were holding steady, until he broke the silence first, his voice soft. "Did you say anything to her?"

About you being alone? "She figured it out on her own."

"Why is it everyone could figure it out but me?"

"That you're alone? It seems obvious." She frowned when he said nothing, glancing sideways. Now he was going silent on her? She shook her head, defeated. At least we're not screaming at each other. I guess that could be called progress. She muttered under her breath. "You're alone Tim, it doesn't take a genius to figure that out. Least of all a six-year old."

Tim snorted. She wasn't expecting that. He glanced at her, amused. "You think I'm talking about that? I'm talking about Mrs. Taylor. She knows, Garrity. She knows, Buddy knows, and everyone knows. They all know and I didn't. Why did they get it and I didn't?" He bit his lower lip, breathing, to himself. She didn't think he meant for her to hear. "How come I didn't know?"

Because you didn't have reason to expect I'd keep something like this from you. Just say it Garrity. Say it. It might diffuse everything. He was confused. Scared. At least he was trying. That wasn't what she thought. She thought he'd run away. There was still time for that. She lifted herself up a bit in her seat, whispering, her gaze fixated on the road. "You didn't know because you never would have thought I'd hide something like this from you." There. You said it.

They drove quietly. She reached over to the radio, turning on a rock station. She began to sing under her breath, just for something to hear in her head. The music wasn't cutting it. Tim could sit in silence for an eternity. She at least needed some sound. She began to knock her head from side to side as the beat of the song picked up, until Tim finally let out something akin to a chuckle. "You always did it."

Did what? Sing? Dance? Why yes, I had a sense of humor. So did you, once upon a time ago. She frowned a bit, her voice soft. "I don't like the quiet."

"I know." He looked sideways again, before sighing once more. He whispered. "I'm not alone. I have a life, Lyla." His voice strengthened as they pulled into a parking space in front of the Dillon Regional Hospital ER. He opened the door, looking over at her and shooting a dark scowl in her direction. "I think you're just pissed that I had a life and was happy without you."

A knife. A hot knife right through her stomach. That's what it felt like. She closed her eyes. I should leave you hear. You ungrateful bastard. I hate you so much. She gripped the steering wheel, looking at his retreating back. He was so bitter. She jerked open the door, storming after him. I haven't thought of you, she wanted to tell him. I hate you. She walked straight to the counter, bypassing him. "Dr. Lyla Garrity, Northwestern Medical Center, I have a patient of mine who broke his hand the other day, I'd like to speak to your attending physician and the on-call orthopedic surgeon." She arched her eyebrows at the medical assistant's stunned expression. She smirked, for extra effect. "He could be bleeding from bones puncturing his veins as we speak so I'd like to speak to the attending as soon as possible."

The medical assistant jumped off, running to get someone, while Tim gave her a blank look. He glanced at his hand, frowning. "I could be bleeding internally?"

"No," she snorted. If he were bleeding internally they'd have figured it out after the last four days or so. She sat down, waiting for the door to open. A nurse poked her head out, beckoning for them to come in. She grinned up at Tim. "Let me do the talking."

He took an offense to that, scurrying after her. "I don't need you to take care of me. I can handle this myself."

Lyla doubted that. She knew ERs. She knew doctor speak. She went into the room with the nurse, turning and offering her hand, smiling politely this time, now that she had what she wanted. "Good evening, I'm sorry to be so impatient, this is my patient, Tim Riggins, he broke his hand a few days ago, I think it's swelling rather significantly and he may have done damage to the tissue surrounding the bone, I'd like to speak to the attending and see about getting some X-rays ASAP and a consultation with an orthopedic surgeon, to rule out surgery."

The nurse gave her a 'are you kidding me look?' complete with smirk, eyeroll, and laugh. "Honey I've been here twenty-five years. You are right off the doctor conveyor belt; I don't even think you've passed your boards. I'll get Dr. Tucker, but he's with another patient right now. Have a seat." The nurse laughed again, closing the door on them.

Well that was embarrassing. She spun on her heel. Tim was smiling, his hand up in the air. She jabbed her finger at him. "Don't start." I can handle this. Lyla opened up a cabinet and began to remove supplies, laying them out on the bed beside him. She had him flatten his hand out on the table she'd just dressed, and began to inspect the bones with the bright light. Now that she had him in a medical setting, she could at least turn off their personal lives and focus on him like he was a patient at Northwestern. Be Dr. Lyla. She murmured, inspecting the way the swelling had formed. "You have a nondisplaced fracture of your first and second metacarpal." She glanced up at him, her voice quiet. Dr. Lyla voice always soothed people. "Tell me when I hurt. One to ten, ten being the most painful thing you've ever experienced. One being discomfort, like a tickle." She began to palpitate his hand, making her way to the injured area. She pressed lightly on his index finger knuckle and he about jumped off the table.

"Ten! Stop it."

The door opened just then, a young doctor stepping into the room. He looked amused. "Do I have to call security?" he asked, chuckling. He offered his hand to her. "I'm Dr. Ethan Tucker, emergency room. I hear you're also a doctor?"

"I am, Dr. Lyla Garrity, Northwestern Medical Center. I'm here visiting family and my…" she trailed off. What did you call Tim to her? She grinned, cocking her head at him. He was waiting for that answer too. "My old friend here. He broke his hand punching a wall."

"Now why would you do that?" Dr. Tucker inspected Tim's hand, doing the same thing she was just doing. He stepped back. "I'll order an X-ray."

"It's a nondisplaced metacarpal fracture," she said. She'd put a lot of money on it. She looked at Dr. Tucker. "If you don't mind, I'd like to set it for you."

"I can't let you do that," Tucker laughed. "You don't have privileges here."

"Let her do it," Tim said, hitting his head back against the wall. He closed his eyes, mumbling. "I'll sign a waiver, whatever. She wants to do it, let her do it. She'll bother the shit out of you until you do so you might as well." He waved his good hand, defeated. He opened one eye when no one moved. "Come on, my hand is fusing as we speak. Get it fixed."

How do you know about bone fusion, she felt like asking, but wisely kept her mouth shut. Dr. Tucker said he'd discuss having her on as a temporary or waiver or something. Lyla honestly just figured he seemed offended someone else would be doing the procedures. She turned around at the click of the door, studying Tim. He had his eyes shut again, his back straight to the wall, and his hands in his lap, draped lightly near his knees. Without him watching, she took the moment to really look at him. He was tired. The concavity of his cheeks was slightly pronounced, but nowhere near the anorexic look he'd had seven years ago. His muscle was back on his shoulders and his chest. His hair was just cleaner. He took care of himself. She suspected he still ate like crap, but he never ate healthy. It hadn't really mattered, with all the calories he burned in football and preparing for football. Now it was his farm. Tim could call it a ranch all he wanted, but it was a farm and he liked it, which surprised her. She'd never known what he might have done, but this was fitting for him. He cared for things, hew as the caretaker, and Becky feeding him with broken animals was feeding that part of his personality.

I'll have to have a talk with Becky, she reminded herself. She never thought she'd meet someone who might know Tim as well as, if not better, than herself. Tyra was still relatively clueless; Lyla had gotten that from her brief conversations with her this past week. Tyra wasn't interested in Tim's emotional goals other than not letting him destroy himself. Admirable, but once she got him to a working point; she left and let him figure the rest out. Becky stayed for everything. She released a long sigh, prompting him to open his eyes to look at her. "What?" he barked.

"Nothing." She came over to sit beside him on a stool, her arms over her knees. She hesitated and finally looked up, her voice soft. "I'm sorry about what Eve said." That's what was getting to him, wasn't it? "She's a child Tim. Don't hold it against her. I never said anything."

"Obviously." He waited, looking at his hands again. He swallowed hard, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on a spot on the floor, his voice even and soft. "I get it why you didn't tell her about me. I don't think I can ever forgive it. Not right now."

"Tim."

"Lyla don't." He looked over at her again, smiling, but sad once more. She hated that look. "Just don't. You didn't tell me about he because you were worried, I get that. I get you're her mom and you love her and all, I get it. I just…I missed all of it. Because of how I was and…and you didn't trust me and I'm sorry for it, but maybe if you'd told me…" he sighed again. He looked out the window, breathing. "If you'd told me, maybe I would have gotten here faster."

Or maybe you would have abandoned her. Not wanted anything to do with her. She countered his point. "Do you think if you'd known when she was a baby…you'd have lived in Chicago? You'd have been able to go back and forth your entire life with her? Do you think she'd be happy?"

"Does it matter? We won't know." He looked sideways again. "Lyla." He took another breath, whispering. "I'm not talking about lawyers and custody and all. She doesn't even know me yet. All I want is more time. Please. I want what you have with her."

You can have that, she thought, her heart straining in her chest. "I'm so sorry," she breathed. That was the first time she'd said that. After the angst from earlier, the vivid hatred they had for each other showing and their impatience. Now they were recovering somewhat. A bit more controlled. She smiled again, whispering. "I'm sorry Tim. I did what I thought was the best at the time. Now it's no longer the best for Eve. We can figure this out together. We don't need to hate each other."

He looked over at her again, quiet. "You hate me. I know you do. You have reason."

"I don't hate you." Contrary to how she felt on a random basis. She shook her head, quiet again. "Tim I don't hate you. It'd be so much easier if I did. I care about you." She wiped at her eyes, tears watering over the edges. Just say it Lyla. She sobbed out, covering her mouth quickly before she dropped her hand again. She hiccupped. He just waited quietly. "I care about you," she repeated, her eyes meeting his. He seemed just as spent as her. She took a deep breath. Say it. "You are my…you are my daughter's father." He seemed to swallow harder at that, terrified. "And I will always love you for giving her to me." She pressed her hand to her chest. What a strange place for this conversation. Sterile. Neutral. "But I did what I did for a reason. You said what you said for a reason. We were protecting ourselves and the only person who is hurt in this is a six-year old."

"So tell her," he said.

I will tell her, I promise I will tell her. I swear it this time. I see more than ever…she nodded quickly. "I promise," she whispered. For Christmas. Eve will get her wish more than ever this Christmas. She hurriedly wiped at her eyes again, smearing her mascara. She sniffed, looking over at him before laughing. "God. Look at us now."

He even smiled at that. "Yeah. Pretty crazy." He glanced at his hand and then over to her again, whispering. "You can go. I can deal with this."

"No, are you kidding? Let these hatchet-jobs here in Dillon set your bones?" She tried to laugh, but bit her lower lip. I still can't…she nodded slowly, whispering. "You really hurt me. It might have been true, but you really hurt me."

Yeah, he seemed to say, nodding again. He moved to the edge of the table, leaning over and facing her, whispering. "Lyla you killed me. I got better. I'm happy now." He shook his head again, almost smiling, calm and peaceful. "I'm really happy and I didn't need you to do it. Wasn't that what you wanted?"

In a way. Yes. Yes, it was. "I'm glad," she said. I just wish you didn't have to stab me in the gut on your way towards being happy. She wouldn't say that. Some things just needed to be left unsaid. Right now they were at least at a détente. She stood up, before she could say anything further, and he leaned back, putting distance between them again. She left, going out into the hallway to find a doctor. Tucker came back, telling her that legal said she could do the procedure. She was a resident, wasn't she? Yes, she felt like saying, scowling. She waited for Tim to go to X-ray, following them off to radiology, where she inspected the scans as they came in. She returned to his room, a nurse preparing the setting materials. "As I suspected," she said, putting the scan of his hand up on the lightbox. She pointed at the shadows. "You fractured your second metacarpal. It's a nice little clean break, right from the main bone, so no surgery needed. I'll splint it and cast it and you'll be fine." She smirked. "No hitting walls."

"No promises." He watched as she pulled on gloves and easily began to prepare his hand for the splint. They were silent, as she worked, laying down cotton, gently wrapping, and then putting on the prepared strips, which would harden. He frowned when she finished, lightly setting it on a pillow. He blurted out something, which had her smiling. "You really are a doctor."

Lyla smirked. "What'd you think I was?" she laughed, disposing of the trash. She washed her hands, looking over her shoulder at his continued frown. He was confused. Why? "I went to school Tim. I decided to become a doctor. I went to school. I'm a resident. Haven't taken my boards. That's next year. I still have a lot of studying to do."

"You have like a degree and all."

"My medical doctor, M.D.? Yes. I do. That's why they call me doctor." She walked over, drying her hands, her voice soft. "What'd you think I was doing?"

Again, he seemed confused. "But you had a baby," he murmured, lifting his eyes back up to her. He swallowed hard. "Mindy can barely function with all of us sometimes. She's good, don't get me wrong, but…you were alone."

A decision I made for myself. "Yes," she said. She nodded, drawing herself up. "I was. I had my daughter. My brother. I wasn't completely alone, but yes, I was going to medical school and working fulltime and studying and raising a baby. It's not the saddest, hardest story in the world Tim. Other women go through much more and have much less." She reached into her bag, removing her prescription pad. She scribbled out a narcotic, passing it to him, keeping her voice soft. "For the pain you'll feel later. You abuse this and I will kill you."

He took the script, scowling. "This has never been my drug of choice."

"Just be careful." They waited for the rest of the checkout procedures to finish up, he got his orders to see an orthopedic surgeon in a few weeks to get the cast off and another X-ray to make sure it fused, and then he could leave. They drove silently back to the house, going up to the front door, when Tim called out to her as she reached for the doorknob.

"You never ruined my life." She paused. I thought I did. That's what you told me. She turned slowly, staring at him across the short distance, where he was standing at the base of the stairs. Tim shook his head again, calling out to her. "You never ruined my life Lyla. It just really felt like you did."

It's in the past. "It's over now."

"It's never going to be over. Not now." He walked up to her and looked down, whispering. His voice caught. "We have a…a daughter. You didn't ruin my life." He walked by her and opened the front door, going inside. He called out to Eve, who was still awake.

Lyla thought about that for a second before she smiled to herself. It was Tim's way of saying he didn't hate her. They had a kid. He loved Eve already. She didn't ruin his life because they had Eve. Well, that was something, she thought. She shook her head. Who would have thought it happened so quickly? She turned, going inside and stood to the side, watching as Eve took a marker from Gracie's art supply kit, which was scattered across a coffee table, various handmade Christmas ornaments now on a small spruce sitting in front of Tim's fireplace. Guess they went out to get a tree, that was nice. She felt someone come up beside her. Tami. Here we go.

Tami wrapped her arm over her shoulders, giving her a side hug, whispering. "I always wondered Lyla. Eric told me the other night." She paused. "This is going to be a trying time. If you need anything, let me know."

"I think it will be okay," she murmured. She didn't hear anything from Tami, so she turned slightly, looking over at her and whispering. "You don't think…what do you think?"

Tami took a deep breath, held it, and slowly released, whispering. "I think Tim reacts to things differently sometimes. I think you both are still looking at a long battle and if you ever need anything, let me know. You both will be fine, I know that much, but…just know that Eve could not stop talking about him." She paused. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but she doesn't have a father figure in her life, right?"

Yes. "My brother," she whispered.

She chuckled. "That's fine, but she still doesn't have that male figure who performs the dad role. Your brother is probably more like her brother to her. She's a very sweet child Lyla, you've raised her very well."

"Thank you."

"Tim loves her."

How do you know? She looked over at him, whispering. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. He's very good with her, but…I keep waiting for something to click and for him to run away."

"I don't think he's ever been afraid of children Lyla. I just think he treats them like miniature adults, which sometimes looks like he doesn't like them." Tami smiled wide. "He was always very good when Gracie was a baby. His nephews are his world. I honestly think sometimes he really pushed himself and worked on himself for them. But that's just one woman's observation." She rubbed her shoulder again. "I'll talk with you later sweetheart."

I'm sure you will. She swallowed hard, looking over at Tim, who was on the floor with Eve, letting her color on his cast. A new canvas, great. She walked over and knelt, smiling wide at her daughter. "What are we doing here? Drawing?"

"Sign Tim's cast, Mommy." Eve passed her a marker. Very hesitantly, she reached for Tim's cast and after a moment, scribbled 'Garrity' on it, near his palm. Eve pressed her finger to her nose and then tapped Lyla's. She cocked her head, waiting. Lyla took a deep breath and tapped her finger to her nose and then moved it forward, but…she bit her lip, looking at Tim. Make the first move Garrity. You are the one who hid his daughter from him. She smiled quickly and moved her finger in, poking his nose before grinning, falling backwards a bit. Eve squealed, laughing at Tim's surprised expression. "Nose kiss!"

"Nose kiss, huh," he said, smiling a bit. He shook his head, his voice soft. "Thanks."

It was a silent apology, but at the same time, it was also her way of saying he was in with Eve. He touched his nose and then touched Eve's, the little girl squealing, throwing her arms around him and knocking him to the floor. "You're my favorite," Eve announced. Lyla didn't take it seriously, Eve had never spent time with a man who wasn't family. Not a lot of time, Tinker and Hastings didn't count. Tim was the only person who completely personified what she wanted, so…Lyla slowly released a breath.

Only one more week until Christmas. Then she'd tell her. She glanced at Tim. He didn't really smile, but he certainly wasn't as upset as he'd been earlier at her. They still had a long way to go, but at least they were on a path to…she wasn't sure what it was. Friendship? Maybe. That seemed too far away. Co-parenting? Once Eve knew. Then they'd go from there.


	13. Just for Now

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay, I was about 75% through the chapter before I realized I did not want a Tyra POV because I felt it just added more to detract from the story. So I had to rewrite and figured I'd push the story even farther with this one. Enjoy :)

* * *

><p><em><strong>13. Just for Now<strong>_

"So what are you going to do about the kid?" Billy asked, sipping a bottle of beer, slouching down in the armchair. He was drowning his sorrows, as the Panthers had once again lost State. Tim didn't know why he was that sad, this all but guaranteed him the head coaching gig next year, unless Eric changed his mind about living up north and came back, but Tim didn't think that would happen. This year at least. Billy gestured towards him with the bottle. "Because I told you what you should do."

He hated that idea. "I'm not getting a lawyer," he mumbled. That wasn't…it wasn't good. No lawyers. He set the bottle down, leaning over his knees, his voice soft. "Did talk to Hannibal." Yesterday. He'd managed to snag his old defense attorney for some family law advice. Since he was relatively sober, Hannibal gave him a decent rundown of his options. The problem was, Lyla was in Illinois and Tim was in Texas. Filing for custody would be tricky. Best thing he could do was work it out on his own, otherwise a lot of time and angst would be involved. Tim didn't want either.

Hannibal did tell him he would have a strong case for at least some sort of custody, unless Lyla argued that he was mentally unstable. The other thing was against him was Lyla had Eve's whole life in Chicago. Ripping her from that for cross-country custody was not going to rule for him. He said it really depended on the judge. So Tim walked out of the office with no real clue as to his options. "So what did Hannibal say?" Billy asked.

Tim glanced up at a knock on the front door. Only one person knocked. Everyone else used the doorbell. He stood slowly, steeling himself. He took a deep breath and slowly crossed the living room, Dracula and Chip following him. He glanced at Hawk Lyla, in her aviary in his sort of dining room. She screeched at him. Like a warning. "Yeah," he mumbled, taking another breath before he jerked open the front door.

An eternity passed between him and Jason. They said nothing for a good minute. Jason's hands rested lightly on the wheels of his chair and he stared up, not blinking. Tim waited a second. I could slam the door in his face, he mused. Or I could just let him in. I don't want to talk about this. It's over. I'm done. He stepped aside and heard Jason's gasp of relief. He continued to say nothing as Jason wheeled himself into the house, the chair coming to an abrupt stop in front of the dining room. "You have a hawk," Jason announced.

Hawk Lyla screeched again. "She's hungry," Tim said, sipping his beer. He looked down at Chip, who was snuffling at Jason's feet. Jason merely glanced down and back up, silent. He shrugged again. "That's Eve's pig. That's my dog, you remember him."

"You're a regular Dr. Dolittle."

"Keeps me busy."

Jason looked up again, his face pained. So we're going to do this now then, alright. Figured it was better now than never and Tim didn't want to prolong anything. He was tired of that sort of thing. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. Please forgive me, he seemed to be begging, just silently shaking his head slightly. He dropped his eyes, almost looking ashamed.

I don't want to talk about it. He took a deep breath. It seemed funny. Their roles were reversed. Now it was his turn to forgive Jason for a betrayal with Lyla Garrity. How things changed. He nodded. He looked up at the ceiling and then down at Jason. After a moment, he reached towards Jason, tilting his face up towards him. He dropped his hand, Jason looking slightly quizzical. "Friends," he murmured. He lifted his eyebrows slightly, turning around and walking away. That was it.

A soft gasp left Jason, the wheels on his chair squeaking slightly as he moved down the foyer and into the kitchen. He waited until Jason had faced him again. Jason smiled and nodded, relieved. "Friends," he whispered, confirming the acknowledgment. Anything in the past was there. Tim wouldn't bring it up again. Just like Jason never brought up any of his bad friend behavior. Even if this was something Tim wasn't sure should have gone away so easily. Cheating on your best friend with his high school girlfriend wasn't really in the same league as hiding your best friend's daughter with said high-school girlfriend from him, but Tim didn't really feel like playing the 'who was the worst friend now' card. It was done.

"Have a beer with me," he said, shutting the door on the subject for once and for all. He poured a bottle into a cup for Jason, since it was easier for him, and mozied into the living room, sinking into his armchair. He glanced at Billy, who hadn't left yet and didn't seem to be happy he'd let Jason off that easy. Well it wasn't Billy's life. Tim turned his gray-eyed gaze to Jason, waiting a moment. I want to know. Jason would tell him anything he wanted to know. He sipped his beer and set it against his knee, quietly asking. "So what do you know about my kid that her mother won't tell me?"

Yeah, I went there, he thought, as Jason hesitated a moment, holding his beer against the side of his chair, his fist tightening somewhat on the cup. He glanced down and then spoke, not looking up. "It's weird…you knowing. I've just kind of lived two lives about it all I guess." He glanced up, finally meeting Tim's eyes, whispering. "She's a great kid. Lyla's raised her so well…she's just lonely. That's all. I think she takes a cue from Lyla." He waited another beat, whispering. "She's like you. In a lot of ways she's a lot like you."

I want to know why you believed whatever she said. They'd shut the door on the betrayal, but Tim still wanted to know why. He took a deep breath, slowly releasing it through his mouth, where it rattled a bit in his throat. He hit his head against the back of the chair, closing his eyes. "Why?" he murmured. He didn't have to elaborate. Billy even knew, suddenly mumbling something about how he had to go talk with Buddy about the future head coach for the Dillon Panthers. They both waited until the front door slammed shut, Dracula jumping a little at the sound. He took a very deep breath, holding it. Until he released it in one loud 'poof', shaking his head, pissed a bit. "Why?"

Now it was Jason's turn to steel himself, his back ramrod straight. He set his jaw, rather imperious in his chair. "Because," he said. Tim held his breath again. He shook his head a bit. "Because she wanted so badly for me to not tell you and…and I don't know what had happened with you guys, but seeing how much she loved you and then seeing how much she thought you were…" he looked defeated again, tired. He shrugged once more. "You know what Tim? I don't even know. There's no answer. Lyla was her mother. I wasn't going to get involve din such a personal decision just because we're best friends. She said that you said horrible things to her. I don't know what, but I can imagine." He held his breath again and then whispered, tiny voice. "She said you were a horrible person. For her to think that…you must have hurt her so badly…I respected her choice, but I promised I wouldn't lie to Eve. Or you if you asked."

And I asked. So you told. Took seven years, but I asked finally. He wanted to scream again. Something just ached, like he was missing a piece of himself. Of course she'd think that about him, but…he closed his eyes tight. "I said bad things to her, yeah," he murmured. They weren't right. They were what he felt at the time. He looked up, smirking. Jason might know. "You ever wonder what your life would be if Lyla Garrity had never gotten involved in it? I wondered that a lot for awhile."

His friend moved closer, reaching to drop his fist to his knee. Tim lightly touched it and then Jason looked up, chuckling. "She was the one who knew you first. You brought her into mine. So how did you get involved?"

He smirked again, leaning back as Jason dropped his hands, sitting right beside the chair, looking at him, smiling a little. He shook his head. The memory wasn't really there. There was no definitive moment. "I don't know," he said softly. He looked at the ceiling. He shrugged. "She's always been there. Like a buzz in the back of your mind…she was there." Serves me right. Trying to push her away. Lyla had never really left his life and I guess that's just how it was always going to be, no matter what he'd said to her or thought of her. He was sad again, murmuring. "She just hurts so much."

Now it was Jason's turn to look sad, whispering. "I know. I've been there."

They were quiet for a few more minutes, the fire behind Tim in the large stone fireplace crackling. He glanced sideways at his little Charlie Brown tree, with Eve's handmade ornaments all over it. He stood, slowly walking over and knelt at one, a little piece of white cardpaper. She'd drawn two stick figures on it and smiled at the flannel she'd colored on what he imagined was his stick figure. 'Tim and Mommy' she'd written on the bottom. The Lyla character was holding a stethoscope and wearing a dress. He pushed back up to his feet. That's what Eve thought, huh? Even she was imagining the future with them. She knew, he was 100% certain she knew the truth. "What do I tell Eve?" he whispered.

"You tell her the truth," Jason automatically said. He reached down to scratch at Dracula's ears, the dog patiently sitting at his feet. He shrugged slightly when Tim turned to glance at him. "You tell her that you're her dad. You love her, because I know you do, and you tell her you want to be in her life, even if you might not live with her or her mother. And one day she'll find out the complete and whole truth, everything to do with your past and with Lyla and she can make up her mind about the whole thing."

That was the fear. What if she hated him just like Lyla did? "I told Lyla that I didn't mean what I said, but I don't think she believed me," he said. That night she'd taken him to the hospital had been eye-opening. He'd been resisting what he'd begun to feel about her. That she was actually not the scourge on his life he'd like to have thought. It wasn't her who ruined everything. She got involved and he disappointed her, but he wasn't sorry for it. He told her he wasn't interested in things like college or leaving Texas. He wasn't going to be sorry for wanting his life. What he was sorry for was hurting her…he could have gone about it differently. "I don't want her to think I'm a terrible person." To the point where she hid his daughter from him.

I really fucked that one up, he thought, looking back at the picture. Eve had drawn them with smiles, which was funny, because he wasn't sure she'd seen them smile in each other's presence before. He walked around the other side of the tree, just checking out what he hadn't noticed a couple days ago when she'd put it up with Tami and Gracie. He frowned deeper, kneeling and lifted up an ornament which she'd made, which had fallen behind it in the corner. He stared at the picture. "Oh my God," he whispered.

"What?" He silently handed the ornament to Jason. Jason took it and looked at it for a moment before he glanced up, whispering. "Lyla must have given her this…I've never seen it." The picture, Eve had glued to a piece of red paper and cut into the shape of a star around the small photo of him and Lyla in the back of his old black truck. Jason smiled again, quiet. "I guess even Lyla didn't want to keep her from you."

No I guess not, he thought, placing the ornament at the top of the tree. He looked up when headlights flashed over the dining room walls. He frowned, walking into the room and to the front window, flicking at the curtains. Buddy's Suburban had pulled up in front of the porch. Great. He let the curtain fall, walking to the door and opening it at the same time she appeared on the porch. She stopped, her eyes widening like a deer in headlights. "Ah…" she looked at her hands, which were twisting the string of her hoodie. "I…" she trailed again and looked up, swallowing visibly. "I just…I wanted to talk to you alone."

I think it's about time we finally talk alone and are on a nice, calm ground, he thought, agreeing. He held the door open and allowed her in. Lyla froze, looking at Jason. "Jason." She walked towards him, leaning and giving him a quick hug. "I didn't know you were going to be here."

"Quick Christmas trip."

Well wasn't this nice, all three of them together again? He still couldn't get over the role reversals here. Tim smirked. "Well now that we're all here. Where's Eve?" He had felt his heart kind of skip at the sight of the Suburban, hoping the little girl was with Lyla. He hadn't seen her since the night he'd gotten his hand bandaged. He wasn't sure if that was on purpose, especially since he'd told Lyla about not really hating her and stuff. He wasn't sure how she'd been processing that.

Lyla walked into the living room. "She's with my brother and my dad. He's having some pain in his leg, so they're staying in for the night watching Christmas movies. I had to do some final shopping for her and thought I'd come over here." She turned in front of the Charlie Brown tree. This was hard for her, he realized. Whatever she was about to say. Her breath shook slightly. "I…" she turned again, glancing at Jason, whispering. "Do you mind, Jason? I need to talk to Tim alone. Please."

Showing her where his allegiance was at this moment, Jason didn't move, silently glancing up at him for confirmation. Tim dropped his chin a bit. Yes. It would be okay. You can leave us. He waited for Jason to back out of the room, Dracula and Chip following. In the dining room, he saw Hawk Lyla's eyes flash a bit, focusing on them. He left her and led Lyla into his study, closing the door behind them. Now it was just them. "What's up?" he asked.

When Lyla turned, he did a bit of a double take. She really did look exhausted. Bags under her eyes, her hair was falling around her like tangled ropes. She had on a Vanderbilt sweatshirt with flour stains and leggings that were faded and shoved into scuffed boots. He reached for her, but paused. Unsure how that would seem to her. So he held back, as she walked away from him and sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. She folded her hands together and looked up, tears shining. "You really don't hate me?" she almost mouthed, her voice so quiet.

Was that what this was about? He wasn't sure what to say. He swallowed hard, dropping his gaze to the floor. He walked over, his toes digging into the area rug. He wanted a drink, he thought. He rubbed his thumb over his soft cast and looked over at her, softening a bit. This was killing her. "I don't," he murmured. He felt his lips turn up slightly, whispering. "I told you Lyla. You didn't ruin my life."

"You thought I did," she said, taking a shaky breath, releasing it. She slumped deeper into her hoodie, looking small. She wiped at her eyes. "I've been thinking a lot these past couple of days about it. About what to do…after we came back from the hospital and Eve was just…sitting with us and all and…and I'm sorry." She bit her lip, sobbing out and burying her face into her hands, crying and shaking. "I'm so sorry! I was so angry with you, so hurt…you were so horrible and…and I didn't know what to do, I'd never seen you like that…I didn't know what to do and I just…I just felt this hate inside of me I'd never felt before and I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me, I'm so sorry!"

A gut-wrenching cry came from between her lips. She lurched forward, crying hard and reaching for him. Oh my God, he thought, his eyes wide. He didn't know what to do. What did you do? He wrapped his arms around her. She was so tiny for some reason. She kept repeating herself. I'm sorry too. He pulled her even closer, whispering. "I'm sorry," he said. He really meant it. What he'd said to her had prompted all this angst. All this meanness. "I didn't want to hate you. I was angry."

"I know," she whispered, breaking from him to look at him. He hated seeing her cry. It did something to him. He wiped at her face and she laughed a bit, reaching to wipe at his eyes. Was he crying? He didn't feel like he was. She dropped her hands to her knees, both of them almost sitting in each other's chairs. She hiccupped. "You were horrible Tim. I just kept…kept thinking about it and it got worse and worse until I never wanted anything to do with you."

Same. It was the same for him. He looked away. My life has been shit most of the time. There were hardly any good things he could think of and the greatest moments of his life he could count on ten fingers. He swallowed hard again. "I'm sorry," he breathed. He looked over at her again. "It's both our faults." The silent problem. Eve. It was both their faults. He shook his head again. "You didn't ruin my life."

"You only think that because now you know about Eve," she whispered.

Yes. Yes, he thought that might be true. Either way, it did no sense to dwell on anything else. She didn't tell him about Eve. Eve was six…he could only know her now. As much as he wanted to know her as a baby. "We'll never know," he whispered. He shrugged a bit, looking at his hands, whispering. "I don't know if I can ever really forgive you Lyla, but…I don't hate you and I don't think I ever did. I just was tired of hurting."

"Me too."

Then can we just not hurt each other anymore? He looked at her again; she seemed to be asking him the same things. He leaned in and touched his head to hers, breathing. "Thing is Lyla…I said those things to you and…and even now I still love you." He didn't know what kind of love it was. He wasn't going to marry her. They'd never get back together the way they were. He just loved her. He smiled sadly. "It all makes no sense now."

"Seven years of hating each other for no real reason," she murmured. She took a deep breath, sighing and closed her eyes, whispering. "I love you for my daughter…our daughter." That was the first time she'd actually said that. He felt his pulse start racing when she smiled again. "I guess I'll just keep being in your life…because Eve will be there too."

"Yeah." So it was all pointless in the end. He nodded. That's what it was. She'd said it. That's how he loved her. Because of Eve. He loved her because of Eve. He reached up and pushed his fingers at his forehead; he was getting a headache. He dropped his hands between his knees, sitting there silently for a moment while Lyla composed herself. So where did they go from here? "Now what?" he whispered.

"Now what? We tell Eve on Christmas."

"Christmas Eve. Give her something happy." Because they were going to have to break it to her that Mommy and Daddy weren't getting together. They weren't getting married and falling madly in love after all this time apart. That was for fairytales. That conversation would probably happen on Christmas. At least give her something good for a short time. He closed his eyes. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to get a lawyer."

Lyla's breath instantly hitched. He knew that would happen. Her voice was significantly cooler. "And why would you do something like that?"

"Because she's my daughter and I want to see her."

"And you think I'd keep her from you?"

Well you have for seven years, haven't you, but he wouldn't say that. He turned his head slightly to peer at her. That unspoken question passed between them and she nodded, looking out the window. The door pushed open. The magician dog wandered in, somehow having opened it. Dracula sat between them, whining a bit. He reached down to scratch at the dog's ears. He shrugged. "We can talk about it later. I don't want to talk anymore." I'm done with this. This has been too much as it was.

They just sat there. Tim wasn't sure what to do or say now. Did they hug again? Did they shake hands? What did they do? He glanced at Lyla. She glanced back. They both smiled a bit and he almost had to laugh. Seven years of not being around each other, avoiding each other…lying, being nasty…and now this? He bit his lower lip, shrugging slightly. "Jason's out there. You want to stay? Maybe get pizza or something?" What the hell are you doing Riggins? She won't stay.

Lyla wiped at her eyes and shook her head, whispering. "No. I need to get back to the house." She bit her lower lip, tears flooding her eyes again. "Daddy's just not well. I don't want to miss time." She wiped at her eyes again, hiccupping. "And I don't know how to fix it."

There was more there then, to her coming here. He felt something ache again, reaching for her once more. She dropped her head to his shoulder. I know what you mean about Buddy. He'd been there. Helping him out and stuff. "I'm sorry," he breathed.

"It's not your fault." She took another breath and sat up, getting out of the chair. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned, smiling briefly. "Um…I have something for you…I didn't want to give it to you but…I figured…well we've sort of come to a bit of an agreement here and I'm sure this will ruin it, but…" She reached into the pocket of her hoodie and handled him a small USB drive. What the hell? He took it, silently questioning her. She shrugged, breathing and meeting his eyes. "Just watch it."

Tim stood in place, watching her leave. He followed her out the window, the lights low in the office and the porch light kicking on at her movement. She was huddled almost into herself. Don't feel sorry for her, a part of him thought. A lot of this was her own doing. Lyla's efforts to protect herself only ended up hurting her most of the time. He glanced down at the USB drive. I know what this is, he thought, closing his eyes tight, his fingers closing hard around it. He shoved it into his pocket and went out into the living room, where Jason was waiting, holding the pig. "I need a drink," he whispered.

"Are you guys okay now?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He was done talking about this forever at this rate. He got another beer, took a pill for his hand, which was hurting now, and then led Jason outside, where they sat around his firepit, a frost already forming on the ground beneath him. For the next few hours, they bullshit together, about his farm, he told Jason about the gas company's offer to drill on his land; Jason was strongly against it. He didn't tell Jason he'd already told the gas company no, he didn't want to drill, and was pleased that his friend agreed with him. They talked about Jason's kids. Noah was a star cornerback and Jason's little girl was just as good in gymnastics. Erin was enjoying her work as a counselor at Planned Parenthood, and otherwise, they were all happy and healthy and loving New York.

When Jason left, he waited a moment before he went into his office to retrieve his computer, sitting down in his chair with the laptop on his knees. He slipped the USB drive, a tiny little fob, into the side and waited for Dracula to jump up beside him. One long pull of beer, he prepared himself as best as he could, and opened up the file. He clicked on the first video. It was titled 'D-Day.'

The first thing that popped up was Lyla standing in a nursery, folding things into a bag. "Bud turn that phone off right now," she said. She turned, glaring at him. When she turned, the video pulled back, revealing her at a full-term pregnancy. She placed her hands in the small of her back, shouting at the camera and laughing. "I am not having my image like this documented! I look horrible!"

"You're fat," Bud laughed. He turned the phone around, making a face. "Okay neice or nephew of mine, this is your last day inside my sister's stomach, which as much as I don't want to think about it, is probably a dark and horrible place to live. So in what, like twenty-four hours or something you'll be seeing me? Right Sis?"

The camera reverted back, Lyla glaring. She then smirked. "This baby is about two weeks late. I highly doubt…" Her face changed and she flinched, her hand going to her stomach.

"Oh my God!" Then the video switched to Lyla in a wheelchair, Bud obviously running along with it. They were in the hospital and a guy with blond hair and a British accent was with Lyla, pushing her into a room, where Bud wisely stayed outside, until the camera took over. It was the British guy again, filming as Lyla gave birth.

Tim stared, enanmoured, watching the video. He saw Eve born, all gross and goo of her, his heart absolutely breaking. He took a deep breath, but found he was having trouble breathing. He buried his face into his hands, not watching when he heard Buddy ask Lyla about the baby's name and how she felt and everything. Buddy was laughing and crying. The British guy said something about how the baby was as beautiful as her mother. Lyla told the guy, Carter, to leave them alone for now. He scowled; who the hell was this Carter person and why was he there at the birth of his daughter?

He finished the video, which ended with Lyla smiling up at the camera, beaming. She looked exhausted, but unlike earlier, where she seemed haggard and a bit like death warmed over, this time she seemed happily exhausted, her eyes shining and her face flushed pink. "What's her name baby?" Buddy asked softly.

Lyla beamed again, her voice soft. "Evangeline Mary. I want to call her Eve." She looked down at Eve, who was a cute little pink prune swaddled in a white blanket with a pink cap on her head. She seemed very calm, her finger lightly dragging down Eve's soft cheek. Tim craned his neck, listening in as she breathed, barely captured by the microphone. "Evangeline Mary Riggins."

The video ended, the screen going black.

Well then. The screen remained black for some time. He closed it, waiting a moment. Unsure. What did he say? He just saw his daughter born. On a computer screen. From a video. From six years ago. He glanced at Dracula, who was looking up with deep sunken eyes. The basset was the closet thing he'd had with him the last couple of years. He wrapped his arm around the dog's neck, rubbing at his chest. Good boy, he idly thought, lifting the computer screen back up. I can't see more of her as a baby right now. So he selected one titled 'First Hockey Game.' Eve was on the screen, wearing a full hockey…outfit, he supposed it was. Gear, maybe. He smiled, when Lyla came into the screen, holding the phone up.

"So it's your first game Evangeline, are you nervous?"

"No," Eve said, but she was trembling, her face white.

"Are you sure? You know it's okay to be nervous. I used to be a cheerleader and whenever I went out to cheer, I was always nervous. I was always freaked out I'd fall down, what do you think?"

"I think I'm not scared," Eve said, seeming a bit more like the one he knew. She grew determined, speaking with a bit of a lisp. He wondered when that cleared up, or if she had to get therapy or something. "I'm ready!" She was probably about four, he thought, seeing the date stamp.

That was all he could handle. One more, he suddenly thought, watching one of Eve getting ready for her first day of preschool. There were about twenty videos scattered throughout the six years of her life. He scowled at the preschool one, since they were at the hospital, Lyla in scrubs. He heard her someone say that Carter was around and Lyla seemed to hurry Eve through getting ready. Who was this Carter? He closed the computer, done.

After several moments, he got up, whistling for Dracula. He picked up Chip, told the hawk he'd check on her in a bit, and got into his truck, driving away. He parked outside of Buddy's house, going up to the front door and opened the door, which knew was open. Buddy never locked it. He let the animals wander in unabated and then dropped off the front porch. He helped build this house and he knew every nook and cranny of it. It took a second, but he hoisted himself up onto the roof outside of Lyla's window, knocking lightly on it.

She was inside, sitting on the bed, a ton of books around her. He knocked louder; she had headphones in. She turned to the window, screamed, and fell off the bed. He smiled in spite of himself. After a moment, she jerked open the window, glaring at him and leaned out. "The hell are you doing?"

He smirked. He could be pissed at her again, but they'd been through that enough the last two weeks. "Who the fuck is Carter?" he demanded.

"No one." She sighed, tired. "Tim I'm not doing this. He's a friend. He's none of your business."

"Is he in Eve's life?"

"No," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm very sure," she said. She nodded towards her books, sighing again. "Tim I've got to study. Eve is downstairs…" They both heard Eve squeal, yelling 'Chip!' She sighed again, closing her eyes. "Tim, damnit."

"Guess you gotta' let me in." He hopped into the house, standing up straight and looked over at the door, which pushed open, Buddy stepping into the room. Buddy stared at them for a second. He waved. "Hey Mr. Garrity." Buddy just blinked, muttered "Oh good God" and left, closing the door behind him. Lyla smacked her hand into her forehead. Tim smiled. He glanced at Lyla, shrugging. "You wanted this to go to as close to normal as possible. Seems like it is."

Lyla sighed, groaning as Eve screamed about the pig being in the house. "Carter is none of your concern," she murmured, lifting her eyes up. She shrugged, quiet. "He's my friend. He was there when Eve was born because he was doing rounds at Northwestern. I wanted a friend nearby and he was. You'll see he wasn't there the whole time, he left because he had to go finish his rounds. He came back to check on me. Out of respect to my daughter and to you in your new role in her life, I will tell you that Carter has never been around Eve since that moment. He is a playboy with other areas he likes to focus on, not children." She smiled again. "And I don't let the men I sleep with around my daughter." She pushed him towards the window. "Which is none of your business. I'll see you tomorrow."

He turned, looking at her. That made him feel better. He didn't care about her sex life, so long as it wasn't getting into Eve's life. Now he felt kind of foolish; of course Lyla wouldn't let that get involved. She was devoted to Eve. "I have to get my pig."

"You can get your pig tomorrow," she said, closing the window on him and then pulled the curtains shut with a smirk.

Tim sat on the roof for a moment, smiling to himself. I guess we're as close to normal as we're ever going to be, he thought, moving towards the tree to climb off the roof, only partially aware of his bad hand. He could give a damn right now.


	14. I Want a Hippopotamous for Christmas

**A/N: **So I thought I could finish this by Christmas but again, life got busy so I'm a few chapters behind. It will end though, which is in sight, after this chapter. It's a setup and it feels like it and it ends poorly but I needed it to be that way so I could get to the 'juice' of the story. Enjoy and thanks for the reviews.

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><p><em><strong>14. I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas<strong>_

"I'm tired." You're crabby, Bud corrected, listening to his niece whine in the back of the car. He was sitting at a red light; she had been a pill for most of the day. It was three days until Christmas, you think she'd be happy. He dropped his sunglasses to his nose, warding off the glare from the bright sunlight. The cold snap they'd gone through had disappeared and it was about fifty-five. Downright balmy. Eve was pissed off. She wanted snow and ice and Santa Claus. Eve kicked at the passenger chair in front of her, whining again. "I want to go hooooome!"

"Yeah you'll live." He was taking her to Tim's. It was about damn time his sister told Riggins the truth. He was happy Tim wasn't going to kill him for hiding the truth, not that he thought Riggins cared about him, but still. Lyla still avoided Tim; she seemed to do it more out of habit than anything else. She'd been studying for her boards when she had some freetime, along with taking Dad to the doctor. Bud was worried; he didn't want to come back to Texas, but someone was going to have to stick around. It was too much to keep putting on Tim, especially now.

Lyla was going to have to face facts; Dad was not well. He was spacy, that was normal, but at the worst times. His limp and the leg paralysis came more often than they should, if he kept with his physical therapy, which apparently he didn't, after receiving a phone call from an irate therapist at the hospital that Buddy had cancelled again. Bud turned off the main road onto the two-lane highway that led out towards Tim's land. Eve kicked the seat again. "I want to go home!"

"You're going to see Tim."

That perked her up a bit. She sniffed, wiping her nose. I knew I shouldn't have woken her up from her nap. Thing was, he had a date that night with a girl he went to East Dillon with. Her name was Tillie and she wasn't much in high school but something had happened and now she was pretty cute. She worked at the coffee shop. Managed it. Asked him out and everything. Eve sniffed again; she was probably getting sick. "Can I ride the horsie?"

"Not unless your mom is there."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, Mom's rules." He knew, he didn't feel like explaining it was because Lyla didn't trust Tim not to do anything stupid and let Eve try everything on her own. He just blamed Lyla. Eve scowled. She hated that reason. "Yeah, sucks," he agreed. He could see the barn rising up over the horizon as they drew closer. "You got your pig?" He glanced in the rearview mirror again. Eve was holding the leash to Chip, who was in a cat carrier, squealing.

"Yes. I don't think she likes the cage."

"No, but she's not peeing and pooping in Dad's car."

"Grandpa got mad last time." Yes, Buddy had been furious when Chip decided she didn't want to wait until they stopped before doing her business in the backseat. Eve wiped at her nose again, coughing. Yeah, she was getting a cold. Bud could see the signs a mile away. She coughed again and whined. "I don't feeeeel gooood."

Oh great. He pulled into the gate with the iron 'R' in the middle, which he thought were kind of funny. Like Riggins was an English landowner and this was his castle. He guessed that might be true. He pulled the Suburban into a parking space in front of the office, climbing out and helped her down. He opened the cat carrier, letting Chip run out, squealing loud. Dracula woofed from where he was lying in the sunlight, rolling onto his back as Eve ran towards him to scratch his stomach, Chip following. "Where's Riggins?" he mumbled.

"What's up Garrity Junior?"

Bud turned, seeing Luke and Becky walking towards him. He frowned at Becky. She was getting fat. "Hey guys, where's Tim?"

"I'm not fat," Becky snapped, as he glanced at her again, trying to put his finger on why she looked so different. She shifted, scowling again. "I'm pregnant, unfortunately it's not coming out the way that Mindy or Tyra or Lyla did. I'm going to be one of those women that just looks like they had a big lunch and no one will think I'm cute."

Luke pecked her cheek. "I think you're cute. An adorable pregnant woman. It's just that awkward stage."

"Oh shut up."

Bud gave Luke a sympathetic look, Becky huffing off, but immediately softening as she knelt down to play with Eve. "Dude, I've been there. My sister was insane."

"How did you deal with it?"

He shrugged. He only lived with Lyla full-time after Eve came along. "I just left the house and crashed with friends when she got really crazy. Sorry man." He looked around, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "You seen Tim? I'm dropping off the kid."

"Lyla have you doing the chaperone thing or something?" Luke asked, shaking his head as he walked into the barn, going down the corridor to a pretty gray horse's stall. He clicked his tongue, walking in and took the lead, bringing the horse out into the corridor. Bud stepped back. The horse was pretty big. He glanced at Luke, unsure what to say. How many people knew the truth? Luke chuckled. "Becky talks. I didn't say anything to Tim, because I value my life, but I guess it's all around town now."

Uh-oh. That was Lyla's greatest fear. At least, one of them. He hesitated; he didn't want to get involved. He sighed. Hell. Lyla already had him this far. "What are they all saying?" he asked. He looked over at Eve, who was coughing again, showing Becky the new leash she got Chip. She was probably telling her about Christmas presents. That's all she'd been talking about lately. Especially the great big Christmas present she knew she was going to get. They all knew what she was talking about, but let her wonder.

"Just the same things we were probably all wondering," Luke said, leading the horse out of the barn and into a paddock, closing the gate behind him. Bud leaned on it, listening as Luke spoke, keeping his voice down so some other hands weren't listening in from another paddock. "Why'd she keep it secret, how long has he known, how did he not know, who all knew, those sorts of things. The general consensus is that Tim Riggins wouldn't abandon his kid, but this was still a long time coming."

At least that was something. Bud just didn't want Eve to hear anything. "Lyla will murder anyone in the street if they try to talk to Eve about it, so hopefully they stay silent."

"Yeah hopefully. Tim will be right there behind her I think."

Yeah. That was good too, he liked Eve. Bud saw Tim with Eve only a few times. They were already close. He didn't know what his sister was going to do. He thought of Dad again. Someone was going to have to make the first move. It was between him and his sister, because he knew Tabby wouldn't care. Someone was going to have to stay, he thought to himself, but said nothing to Luke about Buddy. He looked over his shoulder again. "So where is Tim again?"

"Right here."

They both looked over to see Tim walking out of the office. He seemed annoyed, but his eyes lit up when Eve caught sight of him, running towards him. "What's up Eve?" he asked, trying to play off the visible glee at seeing the little girl. He lifted her up into the air. "You ready for Christmas?"

"I want a hippopotamus."

"Isn't that a song?" Becky wondered.

"I think so," Luke agreed. Bud shrugged. He didn't know; he figured Eve was just trying to act cute, which she was, batting her eyelashes adoringly at Tim, like it would actually get her the aquatic pachyderm.

Tim raised an eyebrow. "You do? Would you settle for a hawk?" He set her down, taking her into the office, where through the glass Bud could see he had a hawk on a post. The hawk flapped one wing, the other didn't look like it existed anymore, and then settled calmly on Eve's hand, which Tim had set into a glove. Eve was quivering and grinning at the same time. The hawk knelt down and lightly butted heads to the little girl.

"Holy shit, I have to see this," Becky said, leaving Luke and Bud alone.

Luke shrugged, walking the horse around again. Bud leaned on the paddock. "So when do you go back?"

"After New Years. I just go back to Ft. Benning. No one's talking about overseas again."

"So where were you last time?" Bud was careful about how to ask. Tinker and Hastings both warned him that the last time they'd mentioned overseas to Luke, he'd shut down and hadn't spoken to them for a time. He immediately shut his mouth when Luke shot him a dark glare. He looked at the ground. Stupid. "Sorry."

Luke shook his head slightly, tying the horse's reins to the post. "No…I just…it was interesting. There are men who saw and experienced far worse than I did. I'm a helicopter pilot. You think there'd have been some hairy times but I got lucky, knock on wood. It just isn't a place I'd wish on my worst enemy." He sighed again, muttering. "Beautiful mountains though." He smiled again, laughing. "Afghanistan could have some awesome ski resorts if it wasn't so treacherous and well, you know, resistant."

"I guess."

"What are you up to now?"

I have no idea. He shrugged, looking back at Eve to make sure she wasn't getting into trouble. Becky was walking with her into one of the other barns. He gestured towards it. "What's in there?"

"Hayloft, grain. Not much."

"Oh, good."

Luke laughed. "Eve is a bit of a troublemaker, huh?"

He rolled his eyes. "Not much of a troublemaker, she just…she wanders. That's all." And he didn't want her wandering right into a grain silo or something. That would be something she'd do. He spoke with Luke for a few more minutes about various Dillon-like things, including the East Dillon Lions reunion that was set to occur sometime in the summer. He broke away and wandered off, his hands in his pockets. He didn't have any plans other than the date tonight, but he wanted to make sure they weren't in the way or anything.

He went into the barn, wondering where Eve went; it wasn't like they'd been here long, but a check at his watch showed he'd spent a little over an hour catching up with Luke. He turned a corner, standing in front of a large hayloft, smiling at Becky, who was standing in the center and texting on her phone. "Hey, what's up?" he asked.

Becky glanced up, shoving her phone away. "What's up with you? I think Eve went back to the office, she said she had to go to the bathroom. I know Tim was finishing up some work in there too." She wrapped her arms around herself, sighing and looking up at the large ceiling. "I come in here for quiet. It's kind of relaxing."

"Odd place to relax."

"Yeah." Becky's smile softened a bit, her voice quiet. "Tim doesn't know, but I listen to things. I'm kind of good at that. I heard about your dad. The stroke and everything a few years ago. I know Angela helps him sometimes."

"A bit, but she's got a life. I don't think she wants to take care of him like that." Buddy wasn't an invalid, not by any stretch. Bud took a little offense to Becky's sudden…sympathy, he supposed. He steeled himself, scowling. "I don't think it's a bit deal you know, he's not dying. He's just getting old." Not that old. He scowled deeper. "My dad will be fine."

She chuckled, holding back a bit. "Wow. Sorry, just offering my sympathy."

"I don't need it. Neither does my dad, he's fine."

"Bud seriously? I'm around him more than you and Lyla are."

"Whoa!" That was uncalled for. Becky seemed to know it too, backtracking a bit nad mumbling an apology. He knew Becky didn't really think before hse spoke, but seriously? He stepped towards her, angry. "My dad will be fine. He's Buddy Garrity, he just needs a little bit of help now and then."

That didn't stop Becky. "Yeah, but Tim can't do it all the time. He's got Eve to wonder about now. I don't think he can take care of all of you guys and this farm. Not that you need taking care of," she immediately said, sighing hard. She rubbed at her forehead, looking over at him again and shrugging. "Whatever. I'm just saying, it's hard on Tim too."

So that's what this was about? A pseudo-sibling war? It felt like that. He might as well get involved too, if Becky was full boar here. "And you're all about Tim," Bud mumbled.

She laughed. "I'm married to Luke and I have a baby on the way now," Becky snapped. She glared at him. "Tim is my best friend. I love him like a brother. I don't want him hurt."

"You need to talk to Lyla about not hurting him."

"Believe me, I will!"

"Good, I'm sure she'll listen to you about something that is none of your business."

"But it's yours?" Becky countered.

"What the hell are we even fighting about!" Bud exclaimed. He had no idea how they had gotten to this conversation. He laid it out plain for her, his eyes wide and using his hands to gesture in case she still didn't get the point, as she stood off to the side with her arms crossed, her weight leaning back on one foot, as though amused by this. "Tim is Tim and Lyla is Lyla, they have more going on in their lives than anyone in the world at any given time, or at least it feels like that. Lyla is my sister and I love her and I love my niece, but I stay out of her decisions with Tim. She can leave him without a word in four days, I don't care. We're going back to Chicago on the 27th and quite honestly, I'll be glad to leave Dillon because this place honestly sucks and nothing good happens here, I'm sick of it and I'm not coming back." He took a deep breath, venting, as Becky just smiled a little, watching him. "Eve is a sweet kid, but she's also six and she doesn't get that Mommy and Daddy will never get together. Lyla won't have it and honestly? I hope she doesn't stick around because Tim hurt her, no matter what she decides to do, and she is my sister and I was there for everything. Eve is not going to go back and forth, back and forth, just to end up like my sister one day." He rolled his eyes, scowling at her. "And you can tell Tim that, I really don't care."

He really didn't at this point. They'd been in Dillon too long, in his opinion. Becky cocked her head, her voice soft. "I'm sorry you feel that way Bud." She looked at her feet, mumbling. "I'm sorry I'm getting involved like this. Tim won't listen to me and I just…I just want him happy."

"And I just want my sister and my niece happy." And my dad, but that was another story. Bud took a deep breath, shrugging. "It doesn't matter Becky. We're leaving for Chicago. Eve is going to have to talk to Tim over the computer or something. Who the hell eve knows how she's going to react when they tell her."

"Do they know how to tell her?"

"I don't know." He thought Eve already kenw anyway. She was a smart kid. She had to know by now, in his opinion. He turned, walking out of the barn. "Eve is going back to Chicago. Tim's going to have to figure something out with what he wants, because I know Lyla's not staying."

"Well Tim's not leaving here."

"Then I guess Eve is the only one who gets hurt." He pulled the barn door shut behind him and Becky, not noticing that there was a set of little eyes peering down from a perch in the hayloft.

* * *

><p>Eve pulled away from the edge, sinking deeper against the bales of hay, holding her coloring book against her chest. She blinked through tears. They were never going to stay in Texas? She had to go back? But what about Chip? What about Tim? What about Grandpa? She sniffed, burrowing deeper into her coat. She wiped at her face again with her hand, which was getting cold. It was getting cold and scary in here. She took a deep breath, looking back down over the edge of the hayloft. She scowled when she saw Tim walk in. Did he even want her here? Why didn't he want to come to Chicago? How come he didn't want to get with Mommy?<p>

"Eve?" Tim called out. He put his hands on his hips, turning in circles. "Damnit," he muttered, looking around again. He called out, nervous. "Eve come on, are you in here? Your mom is going to want you to go back."

Why couldn't I stay, she wondered, still scowling from her perch up in the hayloft, staying absolutely silent. She curled her fingers around one of the bales of hay, peering down again; he was right beneath her. "I'm not going," she muttered.

"Eve!" Tim shouted again, leaving the barn, shouting her name. She waited a moment and then shimmied down ladder, taking off out the back door, running for the thicket of trees where the horses sometimes went. She didn't want to go and she wasn't going to go. Mommy wasn't telling her about Daddy and she wanted to know. She figured out her Christmas present. I'm sick of waiting. Santa could change her present, he had time. She wasn't going back to Chicago and she was staying here.


	15. Grown Up Christmas List

**_15. Grown Up Christmas List_**

"Daddy push my hand," Lyla ordered, trying to get her father to listen to her as she attempted, poorly, to get him through his physical therapy exercises. Buddy refused, intent on reading whatever resume or scouting report on a new coach he had in his hand. She dropped his foot gently to the floor, pushing up to her feet, her knees locking a bit. "Whatever." She couldn't force him.

She left him to his own devices, ignoring her since he'd seen Tim in her room, and got herself a glass of water. She had a lot of studying to do. If Buddy was going to be a little baby about his exercises, despite the fact he was starting to waste away, and if eh was going to ignore her like a child because he didn't like that Tim had crawled up into her room instead of using the door like a normal person, she didn't know what to do. Besides, she'd been irritated at how annoyed he was at Tim appearing in her room. Didn't he want them back together? He'd dropped enough hints the last seven years about how a child needed a mother and a father.

No, they need two people who love them. Or one person who loves them. Or a bunch of people, she thought without saying a word. She wasn't going to fight with Buddy. Later, before they left for Chicago, she would have to fight with her brother about what theyw ere going to do with Buddy.

"I cannot keep asking Tim," she said to herself, crawling onto her bed and dragging a bunch of study manuals towards her. The Boards were coming up sooner rather than later and she didn't fancy being one of those doctors who couldn't pass. She was passing the first time, with flying colors, much like she had every other academic thing in her life.

With every intention on focusing on studies of post-stroke care in children, she set aside the book and crawled out of bed, snatching her coat. She left the room and went back downstairs, focusing on a sense of autopilot. "I'm going out," she said to Buddy. That would leave him without a car, which he seemed to realize, lifting his head and staring at her for a moment. She smiled. "You want to come with me?"

He cleared his throat, returning to his resumes. "No."

"You don't even know where I'm going."

"I think its name begins with T and ends in M."

"I think to my daughter, it's name begins with F and ends in R," Lyla said, scowling at Buddy. I'm trying here Dad, come on, give me a break. She shrugged, her voice soft. It was about time they talked. She was leaving in four days. They had to talk now, because there certainly wouldn't be time after Eve found out about Tim. "Why are you mad he was upstairs the other night? He came up there through the window, there was nothing. If there was, why would you care? You want us together."

To her surprise, her father barked a laugh and then snorted, shaking his head. She frowned; what? "You think I want you together with the man who hurt you?" Buddy demanded. He got to his feet, his words slurring slightly. He was no longer laughing. In fact, he looked a little dizzy. Oh no, she thought. The stress. She moved towards him, trying to help him to the couch. He tried to shake her off. "Damnit Lyla! I'm fine!"

Oh for the love of God! "No you're not!" she exclaimed. She threw her bag down onto the floor and cried, shoving her hands through her hair, throwing her arms to the side. It was about time this came out. "Daddy you're not fine! You had two heart attacks, major heart surgery, and a series of strokes! That's not fine! You won't eat right, you won't go to the doctor, and you refuse to do your physical therapy which is keeping your brain from completely shutting down on how to work the nerves in your leg! Do you want to be paralyzed? Never be on your own again? You're working your way there!"

Buddy stared up at her for a second before he spoke softly. "And what are you going to do about that Lyla? Are you going to stay and help me? Or go back to Chicago and hide?"

Whoa. She drew back, surprised at the anger she saw directed towards her. She swallowed hard, whispering, stuttering almost. "I'm not…I'm not hiding."

He shook his head, trying to laugh again, but she could see in his eyes he was in pain. He leaned over the arm of the couch, studying her as she sank, defeated, against his armchair. "Let's forget that I have three children for a moment Lyla. We both know Tabby hates me and won't talk to me until I'm on my deathbed." That's not true, she wanted to protest, but Buddy wouldn't hear it. He kept going. "I have you and I have Bud and I have Tim."

"Dad."

"No, it's true. He's been more of a child in these past six years than both of you." That stung, she thought, biting her lower lip. The sad part was…it was true. Bud didn't want to be in Dillon anymore than her. For different reasons. He wouldn't move back to help. He would rather live with her and deal with his niece. She welcomed it. She wanted the help, as much as she refused to admit it when she'd been pregnant. Insisting she could go alone, but she couldn't. She wiped at her eyes, blinking back tears. I didn't want to have this fight now. Buddy softened a bit, his voice a tad even, the words stronger. "That's probably not the best thing to say, but he helps. It's hard."

Hard to take help from Riggins? "Hard?" she murmured.

"To have him help me and know his past…and…and be mad at him for you but hide what he needed to know." Buddy looked down at his hands. He seemed frustrated he couldn't get up. She came over, sitting beside him. He smiled in relief. He covered her hand with his, but his grip wasn't strong at all. His voice was reedy. "He needed to know and…and you wouldn't talk about him. You wouldn't tell him. I don't know what all happened, you wouldn't tell me, but I know it had to be bad. I know he hurt you, but he helped me. That was hard."

You love me, she thought, smiling. "I love you," she whispered.

He looked sideways. "I don't want to do this to you."

You're not going to do anything to be. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, murmuring. "We'll figure it out. I just need you to help too." I can't do this alone. I can't move back and have you refuse to go to the doctor. I can't convince Bud to do it. Hell, Tim can't do it forever either. She sniffed. There was no other way though. Buddy wouldn't let anyone else help him. He was going to work himself to an early grave and she couldn't have that at all. She hiccupped a little. There was still so much to talk about.

Buddy patted her arm, whispering. "He hurt you baby. You kept his daughter from him because he hurt you. It was very hard."

I can't imagine. To accept the help and the love from the man who clearly hurt your daughter, which had been Buddy's biggest fear. He'd feared that she'd get pregnant by Tim and ruin her life and be stuck in Dillon. While part of that was true, she was fine on her own. She raised a beautiful daughter without coming back to Dillon; she'd gone to medical school too. She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, sniffing. "He's her father," she whispered, hiccupping. She sobbed into her hand. I still don't know what to do. I have one more day and I still don't know what to do. She cried, Buddy enveloping her into his arms. "Daddy I really made a mistake."

It had been a hard couple of weeks, but she'd gone to Tim's house to break the ice. To finally apologize. It was the only thing left. She knew she had to apologize, even if she thought at the time it was the right thing to do. It had been exhausting, thinking nonstop about it since she'd taken him to the hospital. It was the final thing standing in their way…so she'd done it. She'd apologized and it had been almost soul-clearing. To feel like she'd finally done the right thing after all this time. Tim had accepted it. That felt like the final thing. He accepted the apology and he took the drive with all the videos and pictures.

That had been Jason's idea. He'd texted her earlier that day; she suspected he'd be in Dillon soon after that, she didn't think he was already there. _Give him the videos of her, I think it will be good for him. And you. _That was all. Jason had been there for a few of the events. It wasn't like they recorded every single event, but her brother liked photography and videography, so he usually had his fancy cameras with him when they went to big events. The one she'd feared backlash on was the birth video; she'd considered keeping that one from him, but…hadn't this whole thing shown her that that just wasn't the best solution?

Buddy knelt his head to hers again, murmuring. "You did. You're fixing it."

"I'm not going to marry him, if that's what you're worried about."

He chuckled. "It does." He looked down at her, whispering. "What about my Evie? What's going to happen?"

All she could think of was summers. That was pretty much it. Summers and vacation time. She was a resident at Northwestern. Tim ran a ranch in Texas. Two lives apart, there was no middle. "We'll figure it out," she whispered. She didn't even know if Tim wanted that type of relationship. Or if he wanted to just be fun Mr. Tim with the animals.

She scrubbed at her face, glancing at the door, frantic knocking breaking up their emotional talk. "Who is that?" Buddy asked, spent. It had been a lot for him emotionally.

The door pushed open, Tim rushing in. "Is Eve here?" he demanded. He looked terrified, his eyes wide and what little of his face she could see that wasn't covered by his beard looked pale. He raked his hand through his hair. "Damnit Garrity. I fucked up."

She frowned a little. Eve was supposed to be with her brother, how did he fuck this up? "What happened?" she whispered, trying to stay calm. Meanwhile, in her head, she could envision all manner of horrible things happening to Eve.

"I let Eve play at the ranch and…and she went into the barn and Bud said he didn't know where she went after that. No one's seen her, I've got like every single person out there looking," Tim rambled. He was absolutely panicked, backing towards the door. "It's starting to get dark, cold, and snow."

Oh my God. She grabbed her coat, shoving her feet into her boots. "Did you call the police?"

"They said they'll put an extra cruiser out looking, but it's my land and it's not like I've got neighbors, plus she hasn't been gone for 24 hours."

"What the hell happened?" she demanded again, climbing up into his truck. She was trying to stay calm; Tim didn't know Eve. Eve had a tendency to hide when things got stressed. It was possible she overheard things, she…Lyla didn't want to speculate whether she knew about Tim's real relationship to her or not. It was just…this was an Eve thing to do. Hide beneath the table and let everyone freak out and then come out and bask in the attention. She cleared her throat, turning to Tim, the seatbelt straining against her chest at the movement. "Tim?"

He shook his head quickly, speeding around cars as he made his way back through town. "I…I have no idea. She was just…gone. She ran off or something."

"What happened?"

"I have no idea! She wanted to go to the barn so I let her and…"

"Was she alone when she went to the barn?" Lyla demanded. This would be the worst way for him to learn a parenting lesson, although a part of her was trying not to think of that right now. She pushed her fingers to her forehead, her voice soft. "Tim, she's six, she can't be left alone in strange places."

"Don't!" Tim almost screamed, jerking the wheel as he spun the truck around a corner.

Okay, she immediately thought, taking a deep breath. He was driving like a demon. She glanced nervously at his speed. "Tim," she murmured, taking another breath. This was surreal. She was fearful for her daughter, but at the same time she was trying to be as calm as possible because she had never seen Tim like this. He was a madman. A little spark lit in her stomach, her voice remaining as steady as she could keep it when he was going eighty miles an hour. "Tim, it's a little icy out…maybe you should slow down. I'm…I'm sure Eve just wandered off, she tends to do that."

"Why wouldn't you tell me that?" he snapped.

"I…I thought I did."

"You didn't tell me anything Lyla! You didn't tell me about her, you didn't tell me about anything! Now I lost her!" he almost sobbed. He spun the truck through his gates, leading up to the barn. That was really fast, Lyla thought, gripping the side of the door. He shouted again. "I let her go with Becky! I trust Becky, your brother was there…there were a shitload of people, she just ran away and I don't know why!"

Okay, we can figure that out when we find her. She can't have gone far, she's six years old and it's cold out. "What was she wearing?" Lyla asked, climbing out of the truck. That would be important to know. She had left Bud to dress her. She looked at her brother, who looked mortified as he came out of the office. She walked towards him, wrapping her arms around him. "IT's okay. We'll find her."

"I turned around for a minute! I was just talking to some people….Lyla there's something you should know." Bud pulled her aside, keeping his voice quiet as Tim browbeat his staff into telling him what they'd found. The wind was beginning to pick up, she noticed, fighting back the fear in her chest. Eve was alone out there. Bud shook his head, almost looking ready to cry, but he took a deep breath and fought through whatever he was feeling. Guilt, Lyla pegged it. "Becky and I had a…a…fight. About you and Tim and…and Eve and stuff and I think she was in the barn. I remembered afterward that she went in there but no one saw her leave. Um, if she was hiding somewhere…she might have heard."

"Heard what?" Lyla asked, her voice even. She was hiding her anger. What was Becky concerned about? Her brother? They shouldn't have been fighting about anything.

"Um…about Tim and…and going home and stuff. I don't know anymore. It was all kind of a blur."

Good God. Lyla closed her eyes tight. She waited a moment and shoved her hands over her hair. How am I the calmest one here right now and my only child is off in the wild of Texas somewhere? She dropped her hands to her sides, looking up when more people joined the search party. Tami, Coach, Tyra, Matt, and Julie had all appeared. "Where are we going?" Tami asked, taking charge. She began to direct, listening as people told her where they'd searched. She turned to Lyla and Tim. "Both of you go out towards the woods. Tim, this is your land, you know them well. Where might she go Lyla?"

Lyla closed her eyes. Eve…Eve…where would Eve go around here? She pushed her fingers to her temples. Eve might not want to go home, so she'd want to hide. Somewhere enclosed. Somewhere near Tim…but they didn't find her near the house. She covered her hands with her face and then dropped them, turning to Tim, her voice soft. "Is there anywhere around here where there might be a cave?"

He shook his head, but then hesitated. He looked out over the tall grass and then walked right by them. I guess that's a yes, she thought, running after him as he ran towards his truck. She jumped up into the cab. He turned, spinning the key in the ignition, the engine revving. "Get out," he ordered.

"This is my daughter we're talking about, if you know where she is I'm going with you!" she almost bellowed. Don't you dare talk me out of it. She sobbed, the reality hitting in as more people arrived, Tami orchestrating. Buddy appeared, hurrying up to Eric; it looked like Angela had picked him up. She felt hot tears on her face, which was pink and warm. "I don't know what's going on and I don't care Tim. I am not assigning blame for anything, I just want to find our daughter!"

He seemed to pause, but then nodded. "Okay," he murmured.

He was going crazy out of worry. That was one thing she'd pulled from this debacle. The other was, he was blaming himself. She almost had to laugh. Tim blaming himself for screwing something up with someone he loved? That was as normal as you could get with him. She wiped at her eyes. It would do no help or good for both of them to be at each other's throats about this. She looked out the window. The snow was almost blinding. Eve had wanted snow for Christmas. She was going to get it. "How long?" she murmured.

"What?"

"How long as she been gone? Since someone noticed?"

Tim glanced at the clock on the dashboard. His throat closed, his voice choking. "Five hours."

Oh my God. She hung her head in her hand. This was a nightmare. It was starting to sink in. My child is missing. She's out there. Alone. Cold. Scared. She tried not to cry, but she couldn't help the sob escaping. She felt her shoulders hunch, sobbing. This was her fault. She left her alone…she started all of this by not telling…now Tim was killing himself because he was in love with her and he thought he'd lost her…she wiped at her eyes. Tim said nothing. "You can have whatever you want with her," she whispered. She looked sideways. There. I said it. He didn't take his eyes off the road, but she could see his knuckles were white. "You love her Tim. Don't deny it, you love her and she's your daughter too and I won't fight it. You can have the summers, the winters, I don't care…I don't know why she'd run away or…or anything. This is screwed her up and that's what I never wanted to happen but it did."

They drove in silence for a few more minutes until he slowed down, his voice a whisper as they came to a stop in front of an abandoned oil well. "This isn't your fault either." He climbed out of the truck, yelling. "Eve!"

She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and jumped out into the snow. It was blinding. It wasn't really sticking, but that didn't matter as it whipped around, a freak Texas storm at the worst possible moment. "Evangeline!" she yelled, sobbing as she stumbled through the frost. "Evie, baby please! If you're there it's Mommy! Come out!"

Tim had kicked down the fence to the oil well, carefully making his way around the rusted out structure, kneeling in dark corners. He pushed open a rusted out door to a little shack, shaking his head. "She's not here!"

It was a shot in the dark. It was miles away from the barn anyway. Just two or three, but how far could Eve have gotten? She was six, it wasn't like she was an angry teenager who could run for miles…she shielded her gaze, looking out. Her eyes widened. "Tim! What's that out there?"

He followed. "The thicket?"

"Let's go." She could see a tall tree. She recognized it from the barn. It could be seen, like a straight shot from the ranch. If Eve had a focus point, it might be that. She climbed back in the truck, shouting out the window as Tim sped to the thicket, jerking the transmission to park. They jumped from the truck, shouting for Eve. She couldn't hear anything, but she swore she heard a small sound. She spun in a circle, crying out. "Eve! Mommy's here! Daddy's here too!"

"Evie!" Tim yelled. He pushed through the tree branches, the thick scrub scratching up his hands, which were already stiff from cold. She hurried after him, launching herself towards the base of the tree, which formed a knot. He pushed by her. "Evie, baby, it's Daddy!"

"Daddy?"

They both froze, staring at each other. Her heart spilled out of her chest as she howled, seeing Eve curled in a ball inside the trunk of the tree. She sobbed, grabbing at her daughter. "Evie," she cried, over and over, hugging her tight as her daughter cried. She framed her face with her cold hands. Eve was crying, just as cold if not colder, her face drained of color. Oh my God, she's so cold and stiff, she thought, unable to clutch her tight enough. Behind her she felt Tim move, lifting Eve up and wrapping her in his coat, the old corduroy and sheepskin holding his body heat in and now was keeping what little of Eve's was left inside of her. She didn't let go of Evie's hand, hurrying out of the thicket and to the truck.

Neither said a word; Eve's eyes had closed when they got her to the backseat of the truck and she wasn't responding to each of them, their voices trying to hide the panic they were both feeling. She didn't have to tell Tim to drive, the truck speeding off as fast as it could across the fields. Oh my baby, she thought over and over again, wrapping up the little girl in Tim's coat, her coat, and the sweatshirt she was wearing. She didn't know what else to do; they didn't have heated blankets or warm saline, but they couldn't warm her up too fast if she was hypothermic.

We have to get to the hospital, she thought, her hands framing Eve's face again. She didn't know how she was doing it, but she wasn't sobbing and crying and losing control at the notion that her child had run off, gotten lost, and been inside a tree trunk for five hours as the temperature plummeted and snow swirled. I have to be the rational one, because Lord knew right now Tim was losing his mind, demanding to know what was going on, was she okay, was she talking, and what was going to happen now.

"We're here baby," she said, lifting up Eve and helping Tim with her as they stopped in front of the ER doors. She ran inside with her, ignoring the familiar ER doctor from a few days ago, when she'd brought Tim. "This is my daughter, she's been outside, she ran away and was inside of a tree…she's hypothermic…I…" she dropped her hands. I have no idea, she thought, watching as the doctor and a nurse took away her daughter into a trauma room and began to wrap shiny heat blankets around her and take her vitals.

Now it came, she thought, biting her lower lip. Tears filled her eyes and she closed them, feeling them fall fast down her face. Tim came up behind her and wrapped her up. Neither were wearing coats, but she didn't feel cold right now. He rested his head to hers. "She going to be okay?" he whispered. She cried, turning into his arms. Yes, I think so, but I don't know. He squeezed her hard. She sniffed into his chest and turned her face up to him. Their gazes met for a few moments and broke when she pulled away from him, a nurse leading them out of the hallway and into a waiting area.

They were the only ones there, both of them sitting side-by-side, and saying nothing. What was she supposed to say to him? This was no one's fault…she told him what she'd thought of it and he'd shot it down, not believing. This was about their daughter. I'm actually referring to her as our daughter, she thought. She wiped at her eyes again, whispering, being the first to break the silence. "Hypothermia…she was speaking until we got to her, so it's probably not going to be…lingering or anything."

He was slumped beside her. After a moment, he finally whispered. "She called me Daddy."

So she knew. Even if she didn't, we were shouting it. She wiped at her eyes, nodding. "Yeah," she murmured.

He looked away, still whispering. "We really screwed up."

Yeah, we really did. It wasn't worth this. Just as she feared, the person hurt was their daughter. Who was now in the hospital. That wasn't anything she thought would happen and it was the worst possible outcome. "She's such a lonely little girl," she whispered, her hands folded between her knees, cold and red. She clutched them together, the knuckles turning white. It began to just fall out of her as she told him. "She's got some friends, but she just wants to play hockey and read and be alone and…and I don't know how much of that time she's wondered about you…she's bullied at school and…and I don't know if she's as happy as I like to think I am…Bud said he was talking to Becky about going home and stuff and maybe she thought this was a way to get back at us, I don't…I don't know Tim. I just don't want her to be hurt and here she is in the hospital!" She furiously wiped at her face, taking a deep breath. What to do Lyla, what to do? "We're going to talk to her. This is all stopping now. I don't care anymore how we tell her, she already knows and…and it's just going to be that way from now on."

Once again, after she finished speaking, he said nothing. Are you going to say anything, she wanted to know. I can't be the only one here talking. I know it's mostly all on me now, but…honestly? Say something, she wanted to scream at him. She was about to say so, when he finally whispered again. "You called her our daughter."

What? "Yes."

"Our daughter."

I suppose I did. "She is our daughter," she whispered. She looked sideways again. Was he finally coming to terms with it? She shrugged, whispering. "She's our daughter. This is what it feels like."

"Like you're going to die?" he almost gasped, but hten laughed a little. He looked over at her and she saw it; it was just shining out of him, his eyes light and dancing and his smile pulling on his lips. He touched at his chest. "I thought I was going to die and then…she was there again."

It sometimes feels like that. "Feels like you're at the edge of a cliff," she whispered. She shrugged, smiling. "And then there are times it feels like you're where you were always supposed to be. And…and you'll never understand what it's like to not be whole so when…when she's not there it feels wrong somehow."

"That's what it was."

The standing on an edge of a cliff thing or the missing thing? It didn't matter. He felt it. That's what counted, as glad as she was to know he was all involved in this thing now…she wish it didn't have to come at this price. "You love her?" she breathed, just seeking final confirmation. I want to hear it from your lips, Tim.

Tim nodded, but didn't say it. He nodded again and pushed his hands up through his hair and then scrubbed down over his beard. He dropped his hands between his knees, leaning forward before he nodded again. "Yes," he barely whispered.

It only took two weeks. He didn't even know that entire time and he loved her. "Good," she said. She leaned against him, hugging him. That's really good to hear.

"Garrity?" They both looked up, a nurse calling her name. Lyla stood up, walking towards a nurse whose nametag said 'Anne.' Anne smiled politely at her and gestured towards the door. "You can come with me, Eve is awake."

Oh thank God. She was halfway through the door before she turned, Tim standing off behind her, the nurse looking at her curiously, silently asking if he could come. "Yes," she said, gesturing for him. "He's her father." She held his hand, leading him down the hall, the nurse bringing them into the trauma room.

Eve had her eyes closed, but the nurse spoke softly, rearranging her blankets. "Her temperature is still really low, but we're bringing it up slowly. She's going to be fine, just tired for awhile. You can probably take her home tomorrow night if everything checks out. Oh and she wanted you to know she was very sorry and to let Santa know." The nurse chuckled. "She was very adamant about that."

Oh Santa knows, Lyla thought, smiling as she sank down into a chair beside Eve's bed. She heard someone say they'd move her up to a bed in the pediatrics wing later, they were waiting for her blood pressure to stabilize. Lyla didn't even look up to register; Eve was not a patient to her right now, she was her baby. "It's Mommy," she murmured, brushing her lips over Eve's temple. "It's Mommy sweetie, are you awake? Can you hear me?"

Eve turned her head a little, opening her eyes. She sniffed. "Mommy?"

I'm here. "Yeah," she whispered, brushing her fingers over Eve's face. She looked over her shoulder at Tim, who was standing back, nervous. She took a deep breath and kissed Eve's little hand, which she was holding. "Daddy's here too. He's here, baby. Your Christmas wish came true."

"Daddy?" Eve whispered again, her voice tiny. She looked over at Tim, tears trickling down her face. She began to cry, not saying anything else. Lyla wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. She was tired, sick, and confused. She sniffled, turning and pulling herself into a little ball. "I want to go home," she cried, absolutely pitiful.

I know baby. Lyla crawled into the bed beside her, holding her close, whispering and rubbing at her arm, warming her more. "I know. We're going home on Friday, after Christmas. It's Christmas Eve tomorrow."

"Okay," she whispered.

I thought why you ran away was you didn't want to go home, she thought, but said nothing. There was no way she could get a straight answer on anything from a six-year old. Whatever emotions Eve felt, they were confusing her, and as a result, she'd run away and hidden in the cold and snow. She brushed her fingers over Eve's forehead, brushing back her dark hair. "Do you want to see Tim?" she asked, her fingertips gliding over Eve's face. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I never told you baby." Eve had her eyes closed. She wasn't sure if she could even hear her, but Lyla brushed her lips across her daughter's ear, whispering. A confession. "He's your daddy. I'm sorry I never told you…I was trying to make things better and I just made it worse and…and I didn't know how but there it is. Tim's your dad, the one you wanted."

She looked over her shoulder and Tim pulled himself away from the wall, walking over to sit on the other side of Eve's bed. He was nervous, his hands close to him and not reaching for Eve. It took a moment and Eve opened her eyes again, sniffing. "Daddy?" she whispered.

He didn't say anything for a moment; Lyla watched, wondering what his move would be. He finally nodded and smiled, taking Eve's hand and squeezing it. "Yeah." He smiled a little wider. "I found your letter and mailed it to Santa. He told me to tell you that your wish came true."

You don't have to lie like that, she thought, but kept her mouth closed, smiling as Eve seemed to light up a little more. She sniffed and closed her eyes, whispering. "I'm sorry."

"We can talk later," she breathed, pulling the blankets up over her shoulders. "Just go to sleep sweetie. It's been a really long day for you." For all of us. Just a few hours ago she was fighting with Buddy over whether she was planning on staying or not and now here she was in the hospital with her daughter. There was no telling what the next few hours would bring, let alone tomorrow.

Eve sniffed again, whispering, her voice very tiny as she huddled beneath the blankets. "Mommy?" she looked at her and then at Tim quickly, her dark eyes darting around. She swallowed nervously, whispering and glancing at Tim again. "If I got my wish…do I get any more presents?"

They both laughed at that. Lyla swallowed hard, nodding. Eve would be fine. "Maybe," she said, keeping her voice even. She ran her hand down Eve's hair again. "Maybe you do. You'll have to see Christmas morning." She paused, glancing at Tim. Eve hadn't really acknowledged him. She bit her lower lip; how far should she take this? "Evangeline," she whispered, nodding to Tim. "Do you want to say anything else? Before you go to sleep?"

Eve looked at Tim. It seemed like she'd been fighting with herself, wanting to say something, but choosing not to. She finally looked away and then a few minutes later, lifting her eyes back again, her voice very tiny and quiet. "I wished for you."

Tim leaned a little closer. After a second, he finally did what she'd done and stretched out on the bed, leaning against the guardrail, his arm going up over Eve's head. After a second, his fingers linked with hers, resting lightly on the top of Eve's brow. He gave her a tiny smile. "I know you did," he said. He shook his head slightly, breathing. "And now I'm here. Merry Christmas Evie."

The little girl smiled and glanced her direction too. "I'm sleepy," she whispered.

"I know. You sleep. Tomorrow we'll bring you home and you can have Dracula and Chip and all the animals," Lyla said, tucking the blanket around her. She watched as Eve drifted to sleep, curling a little closer to Tim. They lay together for a few minutes, until she looked over at him. He was just staring at Eve. I'll give them a few minutes. She let go of his hand and crawled from the bed, pulling her phone out of her pocket. I need to make calls. Get my coat back, I'm cold. She gestured towards her phone. Tim didn't even look.

Lyla smiled. That was something. She took a deep breath, glancing out the window. The snow had finally stopped and there was a nice layer on the ground. Who'd have thought, snow in Texas at Christmas, she wondered. She looked over her shoulder again, Tim's eyes closed as he slept beside Eve. Despite the circumstances, she was a lucky kid; she'd gotten both her Christmas wishes. Daddy and snow in Texas. She gazed out the window, taking a deep breath. I wish…what do you wish for Lyla? What's your Christmas wish? She shrugged, thinking to herself. It'd be nice to have one, but quite honestly she wasn't sure what she should wish for. It was one thing for Eve to believe in things coming true at Christmas, but for her? A 30-year old? That was for the movies.

I wish things will just work out. There. That's my wish. She glanced over her shoulder again; Tim's arm had moved, protectively covering Eve. That'd be nice if that all worked itself out. She took a deep breath, whispering. "I wish the family can just be together." There. That's what she wanted. It wouldn't come true, not really. She looked at her phone, returning to the real world, and punched in Buddy's number to give him an update.


	16. I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

_**16. I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus**_

"After Eve's little incident yesterday are you going to take away presents?" Jason asked, laughing when he got a dark look from Lyla. He glanced to Tim, still smiling. "So how's it feel? Her knowing?"

Her knowing? I'm not sure it's really any different. He glanced at Eve, who was sitting in a pile of blankets on the couch, her cheeks flushed. She was still recovering from her little 'incident' as Jason had referred to it, but which Tim was calling her 'adventure.' It was certainly that. They'd let her come home from the hospital, just saying she was still weak, but otherwise fine. She wasn't exposed to the elements for that long, her coat had been warm and she'd done the smart thing, hiding inside the tree. He shrugged. "It's okay."

"It's okay? What the hell does that mean Timmy?"

He smiled mysteriously. It was more than okay. It was an insane kind of feeling to know that Eve knew, he knew, and she was actually calling him 'Dad.' Once ina while at least. She still referred to him as Mr. Tim and Tim. A moment ago she'd called him Mr. Dad. He guessed it would take her time. "Means he isn't going to let us know," Tyra said, sidling up beside him, holding the hand of her husband, who it seemed had just appeared, as he hadn't had time to take off his ski jacket. She gestured towards him, Lyla coming around the corner. "This is my husband Dexter, Dex that's Jason, you know Tim obviously, and that's…" She smirked. "That's Lyla."

Dex was a funny guy, Tim liked him and let Dex know it, but he let Tyra wonder, just for fun. There was a lot to Dex that did not make sense to Tim. For instance, someone who would strap on a board to their feet and go barreling down a mountain, as Dex grew up in a Vermont ski lodge and was an avid snowboarder. He also went to law school, played drums, and was a comic book nerd, devoting his life to gaming when he wasn't saving the world as a White House attorney and courting Tyra Collette, with whom he shared nothing in common other than a desire to get the hell out of his small town in Vermont and do something big. Landry had been his roommate at NYU, he thought. That's how they'd met, Landry had kind of set them up. Dex was like the Landry that Tyra could actually be with, she'd admitted to him once.

He stepped back a little, as Tyra tried to size up Lyla a bit. It seemed as though she'd mentioned her, because Dex's eyes lit up behind his thin wire glasses. "Lyla! The daughter of Buddy, it's nice to meet you. You're a doctor, right?"

"Emergency room physician and trauma specialist," Lyla said. She always corrected people with that. She smiled warmly, her hands wrapped around her mug. "So you're Tyra's husband. I have to say I've been curious as to who finally got Tyra Collette to settle down."

"Do I fit the bill?" Dex joked, his arm around Tyra. He didn't wait for Lyla's response, his eyes widening. "Shit. Here comes your mother."

"Run baby, run." Dex bolted around the corner, shedding his ski jacket. At Lyla and Jason's matching curious looks, Tyra shrugged, explaining her and Dex's reactions to her mother rather poorly. "Momma doesn't like him, she likes to try to trick him with things. Plus she's overly affectionate in the way that only Angela Collette is and it freaks him out."

Tim rolled his eyes; he felt Angela was fine with her daughter. More than once she had loudly proclaimed, in all three of their presences, that Dex was the best son-in-law she ever could have hoped for, because she certainly wasn't going to have it be any of her daughter's other love interests, except perhaps Landry Clarke. He took that rather personally, but honestly, he was glad he didn't have to have Angela as a mother-in-law. Billy had enough problems. He broke away from Tyra, walking over to the couch, where Evie was perched. He sat beside her, reaching to adjust the tartan blanket wrapped around her. "You okay kid?"

"Fine," she chirped. She flushed a bit pink. "You saved my life." She'd been rather dramatic about that, he thought, shrugging. Eve curled up closer to him, drawing her feet beneath her. They were wrapped in giant wool socks Tim thought belonged to Lyla. "Can I open a present tonight?"

"Um, haven't you got a present already?" He smiled briefly. "Me?"

Eve cocked her head, looking a little confused. She narrowed her eyes, obviously seeing an angle she hadn't played yet. It was hilarious how little kid minds worked, he thought, arching an eyebrow when she explained. "Well I didn't open you. You didn't have wrapping paper. I can still unwrap one present, right?" She immediately followed it with a strong-willed. "Mommy said."

Well if Mommy said, he thought, glancing up as Mommy sat beside Eve, doing the same thing he'd just done, adjusting her blanket and wrapping her tighter. "Mommy said what?" Lyla asked, tapping her finger to her nose before touching Eve's. Eve giggled. She glanced between both of them, frowning slightly. "Did I walk into something here? I don't know if I like you too conspiring against me."

Well you would see it like that, wouldn't you, Tim wondered, but said nothing. He was going to keep any remaining hostile feelings he had for Lyla to himself. It wasn't like there were that many. She'd thrown herself on her sword more than once the last couple of weeks, after her initial attempts to keep the blame squarely on him for anything she'd done. He cleared his throat. "She says she can open one more present, because I wasn't wrapped up."

"Oh." Lyla glanced at the tree. There were some presents beneath it. She shrugged. "I suppose one." She glanced at him, her voice soft. "All of Santa's presents are still in his sleigh. I hope that there's at least one present for you, Eve, but there might just be ones for everyone else in Tim's family."

Not necessarily. He'd managed to escape the family this morning to run out and get a few things. He bit his lip, nervous. Tyra came over, breaking the conversation. "Dex wants to know if he can check out your new barn," she said to him.

Perfect timing. "We can open a present later, why don't you play with the other kids?" Tim suggested, letting Eve crawl off the couch to join her cousins. He stood up, folding the blanket and talking quietly. "I got her something Lyla. You might not like it."

Lyla's eyes flashed. "I thought we were fine after yesterday."

"We are, but you still might not like it." He set the blanket over the couch, sidestepping between her and Tyra, finding Dex in deep conversation with Jason about the prospects of the New York Giants next year. He rolled his eyes; there was nothing in professional football to interest him in this conversation. He sort of followed the Cowboys, but other than that, he stuck to the local level. It was more interesting. He grabbed Dex by the collar, tugging him away from Jason. "Your wife is looking for you."

Over his shoulder, Dex met Tyra's gaze. She scowled, crooking her finger for him to go over to her, where she was talking with Tami, Mindy, and Julie. He sighed, defeated. "Guess I have no choice." He smiled slightly, a bit eager. "Hey…you didn't introduce me to your daughter yet…now that's a story Tyra hasn't quite gotten around to…"

He arched an eyebrow, silencing Dex. The other man sighed, reluctantly going to join his wife. Tim chuckled, glancing at Jason's questioning look. He shrugged. "I like the guy, but he's not quite up to the whole Dillon way of life."

"I don't think very many are." Jason rolled his chair to the door, gesturing for Tim to follow. Alright, I guess, he thought, grabbing his coat to ward against the cold. He followed his best friend outside, the other man turning his back on him for a few moments, staring out at the snow-covered farm in the distance. What are you thinking, he wondered, watching Jason in silence. He leaned against the banister, ignoring the biting cold. It felt like Alaska, he thought, gazing over his shoulder at the area of the land where Eve had run towards. I feel like running there too right about now. He finally turned to Jason when he heard a slight 'tuh' coming from him. It took a second, Jason turning to finally face him, his hands in his lap. A stern warning slipped from him, before he softened a bit. "You have to make a choice." He sighed. "They're leaving in two days."

He cocked his head slightly; what was Jason hoping he'd do? I better silence this notion now. He smirked. "I'm not proposing to her. I'm not going to beg for her to stay with me again." That ship has sailed. He did not love Lyla like that anymore. She wasn't worth it. He smiled again, dark. "My daughter is going to live a few thousand miles away from me Jason. I won't see her for months and I only just found out about her, but I am not going after Lyla Garrity again." It does nothing but bring me pain.

Jason sighed again, sadly resigned. "I know," he said.

"She hurts, Jason. She does nothing but hurt."

"And what about Eve?"

"I got her a Christmas gift." It was stupid. Really stupid. He should go sneak it out of the house. He didn't think Lyla would appreciate it in the least. He looked over at him again, twisting his fingers around. His voice was hushed. "She wished Jason and she got her wish, but I can't make anything else come true. Not now."

"I know, I just…I wish things didn't have to be this way. Lyla's alone. Eve's alone. Buddy needs someone and…and you have your life and now you have a daughter, but…" Jason trailed off again, looking up. He shrugged, whispering. "My wife took my son to live away from me and I got up and moved to be with them. I found a job and I supported them, but I left and went to them because living here in Dillon without them would be like living without a heart."

Don't you dare put this on me, he wanted to say. That was different Six. You didn't have anything here for you but them and they left. I have my ranch. I have my land. I have other responsibilities and I had them for years before Lyla decided to let me in on the nasty little secret that we had a child together. He drew up, slightly defensive, but he didn't have to be. He turned his head quickly at the creaking of the side door. "Speak of the devil," he murmured.

Lyla glared at him, her voice cool. "So I'm the devil now?"

"Weren't you always?" He smiled again, his voice slightly teasing. Don't take it so hard Lyla. I'm not being mean. Wasn't this what they did now? "Or maybe not. I'd say you were more like the serpent."

"And the serpent was the devil, who tempted Eve. So are you Eve?" she said, retorting. He scowled. Okay, maybe the metaphor didn't work int his case. She grinned, her arms crossed. "I won that one Tim."

"What do you want?"

"I saw you two sneak out here and I wanted to be a part of the conversation." Lyla cocked her head, dark hair falling out of the messy knot on top of her head. She suddenly seemed less arrogant and sure of herself. "Um…" she trailed off and looked at her feet, encased in a pair of thick fleece boots. "I wanted to talk to you guys…I know that a lot has changed in the last few weeks, but…but they're also not going to change much." She opened her eyes, meeting their gazes again. "Eve and I are returning to Chicago, but there's a lot that still has to be discussed…including my dad and his care."

Was this where you ask me to take care of him? He glanced away, whispering. "Don't worry about your dad, Lyla. I'll help."

"You have this place. It's a fulltime commitment."

"Don't worry about it." He'd been thinking about that too, these past couple of weeks. He met her frown with one of his own. "I've got Buddy under control."

"I can't ask you to do that Tim. He needs care. He needs someone to watch him and…and right now I'm very busy with my life in Chicago, but…" she trailed off, taking a deep breath, looking at him again and scowling. "Tim, I can't ask you."

Buddy will be well taken care of, he thought, looking over at Jason, who was smiling. He shrugged. "She can't keep her mouth shut, can she?"

"Doesn't seem like it, no," Jason agreed.

Lyla groaned, frustrated. She raked her fingers through her hair. "Tim, what are you talking about?"

He looked over at her, smiling again. "My ranch is under control Lyla. I'll watch Buddy. I'll take him to the doctor visits. I'll do what you want me to do with him, don't worry about it." He paused. "It's handled."

For a moment he thought she would kiss him. She stepped towards him, relief over her face. Until it fell, her frown curling back again and her eyes narrowing shrewdly. "What do you want?" she murmured.

Ah, there's the rub. The new Tim Riggins does nothing for free anymore, glad to see you caught on, he thought, smiling back at her. Jason cleared his throat, excusing himself and wheeling back into the house. I've got this Six. He cocked his head a little, following Lyla's gaze as she didn't break eye-contact, coming to sit on the banister across from him, her arms wrapped tight around herself. He smiled again, his voice soft. "I want what I want," he whispered.

"What would that be Tim?"

He cocked his head slightly. "I want Eve," he murmured.

Lyla narrowed her eyes. "You want Eve?"

"Yes."

"Well you can't have her. She's in Chicago with me."

"I can have her on summers and Christmas vacation." He drew his spine up, sliding from the banister and stepping towards her, his voice soft. The confidence was in him, but he was quiet. No sense getting angry about it. He took another deep breath. "I just found out about her. I want to know her. I want to talk to her every day." He took another breath. Keep going Riggins. "And I want to pay for things. I'm not going to write you a check every month. I want to be a part of things. School and hockey. I want to buy her hockey stuff and I want her to know me."

After a quiet moment, considering it, she nodded slightly. Rather stiff. "Okay," she murmured. She shrugged. "That's it then? We just figure it out like that?" She snapped her fingers for extra emphasis.

I don't want to hate you and I don't hate you. It'd be so easy if I did Lyla. I just want to be…cordial. To raise a kid together because we at least have that much going for us. He nodded again, whispering. "And you let me help with Buddy too. You have to ask for help sometimes Lyla. I know you hate it."

Her shoulders sagged a little. "I want to ask you for something too."

"Okay."

Lyla stepped towards him. For a moment, he felt his breath hitch, before it went back to normal. He tore his gaze from her. His blood was starting to pound in his ears. Stop it, he wanted to scream. Don't fall for it. He finally glanced into her eyes again. They dropped to her lips and then back up again. She took a deep breath. Tears rose in her eyes and her breath caught. "We argue and I know we're not going to be Tim and Lyla forever in love like I thought a long time ago, but…but please don't let your anger at me that I know yous till feel…I just want…" she bit her lip, looking up again, her voice a bare whisper. "Please don't let your emotions get in the way of our daughter. I don't want her to know this stuff Tim. I don't want you calling me the devil around her or…or mentioning anything like this. Please don't let her know…please just…just call me Lyla around her. Do whatever you can to keep what you feel for me away from her."

There was a sense of longing and forgiveness in her voice. He felt…he felt his heart skip a little. No, he screamed at himself. Don't you dare fall for it. She does this to you. She does this and…he nodded slightly. Whatever he felt, he knew it wouldn't be fair to the little girl stuck in between. "I promise," he breathed. He hsook his head, putting further emphasis on it. "I promise I won't say anything."

"Thank you," she breathed. She tore her gaze from his, looking out at the snow-covered fields. "It's beautiful here. I see why you don't want to leave."

And I don't see why you can, he thought, but kept it to himself. He nodded slightly. A thought popped into his mind. He frowned a little, his fingers reaching to touch at her arm, drawing her attention towards him, an inquisitive look in her eyes. He bit his lip. Just ask it. It doesn't mean anything, but ask it anyways. "This thing with you and Carter…that's his name? The doctor?" She nodded. He nodded too. "It's not…it's not real is it?"

A ghostly smile crossed her lips. She shrugged. "And if it was?"

"I just want to know what sort of guy is around my daughter is all."

"Okay." She nodded again, whispering. "Carter's an asshole. He's not fit to be a father or a husband and he has no interest in it. He is, however, an exceptional doctor, someone who has been in my life for a few years now during some of the more stressful times, and he's actually a not bad friend." She looked up, smirking. "He's very good in bed and he helps me relieve tension I cannot otherwise do as a single mother who has no interest in bringing a man who isn't Eve's father into her life." She smiled again. "That satisfy you?"

What a very scientific answer, he thought. It did satisfy him, yes. All he wanted to know was if Carter was a threat…father-wise of course. He didn't care if he scratched Lyla's itch. However, he ruffled his feathers, sneering slightly. "He's good in bed? That's what you have to say? All I wanted to know was if he was in Eve's life. But whatever Garrity."

Her eyes twinkled. "Don't tell me you're jealous?"

"I'm not jealous of a guy you caught in your web."

"Sounds like it."

"Shut up."

She grinned, cocking her head slightly and made a face. "It's nice to know we can have these conversations Tim, after all we've been through. We're so nasty to each other. Can we stop doing that please?"

"I'll stop if you stop."

"Funny, you started it."

"Only because you did it first." We sound like children. I have no idea what we're fighting about. He made a move to go inside; at least they'd come to terms with where they stood with Eve. It was going to kill him to leave her, but he'd make sure she wasn't gone for long. All he wanted to do was go inside to spend time with his daughter before she left, when he felt Lyla grab his arm. He turned slightly and his eyes widened when she pulled him by his neck, lowering his face to hers. Whoa, he felt in his head, a train rushing through his ears as he closed his eyes and felt her lips press hard to his.

What the hell, he thought, his eyes opening slightly. She had hers open. What the hell was this? A competition? He frowned, keeping his eyes opened and pulled her against him. She pulled back, her fingernails digging into his neck as she kissed him. She made a move to pull back, a smirk pulling on her face. Oh no, I don't think so, he thought, grabbing her by her face and yanking her back, surprising her. She stumbled slightly and then her eyes closed as she melted against him. Well that's more like it, he thought, sinking into the kiss.

A few minutes later they finally tore away from each other. Her arms were still around him and he still had his hands on her cheeks. They smiled slightly. She hid her tiny smile with a scowl and he immediately glared at her. "That was just to see if we still had something we could go off of for Eve," Lyla said, stumbling her excuses. He nodded. Same for him. "I feel nothing."

In an odd way, he sort of felt nothing too. He wasn't sure what it was. "Same." It seemed just…nostalgic. She felt the same, but different. It didn't make sense to him. I just want things to make sense now, I want them to go back to…normal? That wasn't the word. I want them to be calm again. Lyla Garrity did not bring calmness to anything. At least, not for him. She was a calm force, but she brought chaos with her. He felt his hand drop away from her waist. She glanced up at him again, smiling softly. He smiled in return. "We better go inside."

She nodded. After a second, she rose on her toes and kissed him again, softly, on his cheek. She patted it and dropped back to her feet, whispering. "I'll always love you for giving me Eve. Nothing can take that love away." A sad look twisted in her eyes. "But you were right, seven years ago…" she trailed off, whispering and pulled from him. "All I do is bring you pain and I'm doing it again."

Yes, that's true, he thought, knocking his head sideways against the porch post. He closed his eyes. It wasn't a bad pain, it just…he was just glad he knew now. He heard the door open again. Whoever the hell it was needed to leave, he wasn't up to more conversation. "Go away," he mumbled.

"Okay."

Oh shit. He turned quickly, chuckling and reached for Eve. "Ah, didn't know that was you. What are you doing outside with no coat? You're freezing." He took off his and wrapped it up around Eve. She smiled a bit, hiding beneath the giant coat. He grinned down at her. Hell, how could he not feel happy at the sight of her? Or warm, for that matter, as his heart swelled in his chest.

Eve shrugged, her voice soft. "I don't want to play with Stevie anymore." She scowled, looking up. "Or the twins. They're very…" she paused again, searching for a word. Her eyes lifted up, meeting his, turning to narrow slits. "Loud."

That was a good term for them; they were probably just hopped on sugar, he thought, lifting her up and into his arms. He carried her to the porch swing, taking a seat, keeping her against him. She curled into his chest, silent. He listened to her breath for a few minutes, savoring the feeling of her near him. He smiled gently, peering down at her and whispering. "Do you want to open your present now?"

She nodded quickly. Okay. He left her on the swing and snuck into the house, ignoring the mayhem as everyone laughed, talked, and destroyed his house. Or at least, that's what it sounded like was happening. He'd have to kick them out later; he just wanted to spend his Christmas Eve with Evie. If that meant Lyla stuck around, fine. He picked up the present he'd hastily wrapped this morning after he'd gone to the store to get it, going back outside. He caught Lyla's eye. She frowned a bit, but did nothing. He went to the swing and grabbed a blanket from the closet on his way out the door, covering him and Evie with it. "Okay," he said, handing it to her.

It took a second for her to tear into the wrapping paper, pushing it away to reveal one of her few presents. He bit his lip, looking at her and waiting for her response. Evie's eyes widened and she stared at the box, a smile pulling wide on her lips. "For me?" she whispered, hushed.

"Uh, yeah it's…it's all yours."

Evie turned the box containing a child's phone, which he'd been assured by the store could only call numbers preprogramed into it and only receive calls from the same numbers. It was pink, with Disney characters on it. He reached into his pocket and removed his phone. She looked at it and put two and two together. "This is so we can talk?" she asked, looking up.

He nodded, smiling. "Yeah." It was just so they could talk. He already had the stupid computer thing where you could talk to people face-to-face, but it was kind of a bother and he wouldn't have it with him all the time. They could still do that. He tapped his finger on the box containing her new phone. "This is just for us to talk. You can call me, whenever." He already had them program the phone and reached in, removing the Styrofoam and plastic. He turned it on, the screen appearing. She grinned, looking at it and then at him. He took his phone out and scrolled through to her. He smiled. "This is you." He hit the call button and her phone lit up, showing his picture. He'd also had them put that in there too.

Evie squealed, hitting the green button on the screen, lifting the phone to her ear as she fell over his lap, looking up at him and giggling. "Hello?"

"Hello? Who is this?"

"It's Eve!"

"I don't know anyone named Eve," he said, pretending to not know her. He made a face when she giggled, shaking her head. "Is this Evangeline?"

"Nope."

"Is this Evangeline Mary?"

"Nope!"

He grinned, leaning down to tap his nose to hers, his voice quiet. "Is this Evie?"

She sat up so fast she cracked her forehead into his. Both of them grabbed at their heads, groaning. Ouch, she's got a hard head, he thought, blinking a bit. He made another face at her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing beneath the blanket as she pushed her phone to her ear, whispering. "It's Evie," she whispered, her cheeks turning pink. She smiled wide. "Can I get a nickname?"

Can you get a nickname? He closed down the phone call, setting his phone on the side table, his arms wrapping around her as she stood on his knees, the blanket falling from her shoulders, but his coat still wrapped around her. She pulled back the wrists, which were falling over her hands, smiling and waiting. He cocked his head. "What kind of nickname?"

"You call Mommy not her name."

I do not call Mommy her name, no, he agreed. He shrugged. "She's Garrity."

"I'm Garrity too."

You're Riggins too, but we won't get into that right now, he thought. He smiled up at her. "You're Evie." He liked calling her that. It was cuter to him than the more grown-up Eve and definitely not the mouthful that was Evangeline. Which he'd only ever heard Lyla use for far more serious circumstances. He liked calling her 'kid' too. He touched his finger to his nose and then tapped hers. She returned the 'nose-kiss.' He pulled her back down, holding her hands. "What about Little Garrity?" he suggested. He liked that. Little Riggins sounded better, but they could phase that one in.

The back door opened, Lyla stepping out, her arms wrapped around each other and rubbing briskly. "Get inside! It's freezing, what are you two doing out here?" Her gaze fell to the phone. "Is that a phone?"

"It's my Christmas present!" Evie shrieked, right into his ear. He grabbed at it, cringing. That hurt. She jumped off of him, her foot sinking into his stomach. He lurched forward, groaning as her elbow went right into his face, climbing off the swing. Jesus, kid, he thought, coughing as his breath returned to him from the punch in the chest she'd finished with. She held up the phone. "So we can talk."

A dark eyebrow rose to her hairline. "Hmm, well then, take it inside so it doesn't fall in the snow." She held open the door and he stepped in, smiling to himself. It was fun to annoy her. "We'll talk about this Riggins."

"Whatever Garrity."

"Did she ask you to call her Little G?"

"No, but I will."

"I don't like that." Well then I definitely will call her that, he thought, grinning and throwing it over his shoulder. She rolled her eyes, sighing hard, but he saw the smile slip over her face. She followed after him, tapping at his shoulder. "We'll talk later," she warned, nodding to the phone that Eve was showing everyone.

Tim nudged his shoulder against hers. They had had enough talking. "Just enjoy Christmas," he whispered. It sounded rich, coming from him, and he hadn't enjoyed a Christmas in decades. This one though, he thought, smiling wide at Eve, who had the entire room captivated as she showed off her phone. "This one is different," he murmured to himself. Dracula came up beside him, nudging at his ankles. He knelt down to ruffle the basset's ears. It seemed everyone's wish had come true, he thought, letting go of the dog and going to join Tyra and Jason, who were talking in his study. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lyla watching him. They'd come to terms with things, it would take time, he thought, going into the study. "What's up?" he asked. He hoped they didn't want to talk about anything related to Eve or Lyla. It'd be nice to have an actual conversation with his friends.

"Not much," Jason said, looking over his shoulder. The doorbell rang and he almost jumpe din his chair, if possible. "It's Erin and the kids! Make way!" He wheeled himself to the door, leaving Tyra alone with him.

He glanced sideways. "How is your bun?"

"Cooking. Kicking." She had her arms comfortably around her stomach. They stood in silence for a moment until she frowned deeply, glancing at him and grinning. "So are we going to talk about why I saw you kissing Lyla out there on the porch?" His head whipped sideways, eyes wide. Lucky for him, he had a saving grace from answering the question.

"Daddy! I broke my phone!" Thank God, he thought, rolling his eyes and leaving Tyra to laugh as he went off to figure out what his daughter had done to her brand-new present.


End file.
